


In This City I'm a Young God

by Torschlusspanik



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: A Luthor and a Super working together, Character Study, Danvers Sisters, F/F, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Kara Danvers arrives on Earth from Krypton as an adult, Kara has to learn to control her powers, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Protective Lena Luthor, Rating May Change, Slow Burn Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Some mild injury/medical descriptions, SuperCorp, The DEO needs Lena's help, wholesome friendships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torschlusspanik/pseuds/Torschlusspanik
Summary: When Kara Zor-El's ship plummets to Earth, it dispels the belief that Superman is the last Kryptonian left. Yet this new arrival appears to be a far cry from her cousin's "Man of Steel" persona.Having spent years in imprisonment after being taken hostage while fleeing a dying Krypton, Kara escapes her captors, only to nearly perish when her heat shields fail during her entry to Earth. A DEO team led by Alex Danvers recovers her ship, finding her gravely injured, sick and afraid. With her ailing health, Kara is unable to control her powers, and the DEO are at a loss as to how to manage her.There is only one person left in National City with the resources and knowledge to treat a Kryptonian: the sister of Superman's arch-nemesis and Lex Luthor's sole beneficiary, Lena Luthor. The DEO must take a chance and form an unlikely alliance with the last Luthor left, in the hope that her genius can save a member of a race that her family once sought to destroy.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 104
Kudos: 680





	1. Stargazer

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for giving this fic a try! 
> 
> This is my first work for this fandom so I really hope that you enjoy it. If you're able to leave kudos or a comment, that would mean a lot to me, it provides such a huge writing motivation and I'm interested to hear your thoughts! I wanted to start writing this because I love the characters from the show and I think we could all use a good old-fashioned slow burn love story in these trying times.

By virtue of a strange twist of fate, the night that Kara Zor-El came crashing to Earth, thousands of people from all across the city that she would soon call home already had their eyes fixed up to the sky from which she fell. 

The particular date of her abrupt entrance had coincided with the occurrence of a rare celestial event. The residents of National City were due to be treated to a spectacular meteor shower that would see streams of brilliant light streaking across their horizons as tides of debris from far flung reaches of the galaxy burned through the Earth’s atmosphere. The promise of such a display had seen families gathered at their windows and friends huddled in the parks, each waiting eagerly for the sky above to erupt into stardust. For most, this meant that the sight of Kara Zor-El’s spaceship careering towards the ground was obscured, disguised amongst the fleets of shining meteors that glittered like cosmic rain against the inky fathoms of space. 

Only three people in the whole of National City actually witnessed her sudden arrival to Planet Earth. 

The first two members of this exclusive group were Agent Alex Danvers and Agent Winn Schott. 

They were sat on the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings in the city. Their elevated position granted them an unrivalled view of the sprawling metropolis beneath them, as well as an unhindered panoramic view of the night sky overhead. Despite being such a prominent feature in the skyline, there was hardly a civilian in the surrounding area who could have named the skyscraper that Alex Danvers and Winn Schott were using as their vantage point. 

It was the headquarters of the Department of Extranormal Operations, or DEO to those in the know. Even though it was a government organisation, tasked with the monitoring of extra-terrestrial activity and alien life on Earth, no mention of it would be found on any governmental records or reports. It had been decided at the highest of levels that public interest was best served if knowledge of such a body was kept on a strictly need-to-know basis. Officially the DEO did not exist, but this gleaming tower of steel and glass that stood proudly in the very heart of National City confirmed that its influence, though covert, was ever present. 

As part of the elite team of people who were privy to one of the government’s best kept secrets, Alex Danvers and Winn Schott were hardly unaccustomed to close encounters of the extra-terrestrial kind. This meteor shower, which represented an unusual and extraordinary spectacle for the majority of National City, constituted something of a day off for the two DEO recruits, giving them a rare opportunity to enjoy the wonders of space from an unusually safe distance. 

That luxury was short-lived, however. Regardless of the years of experience and expertise between them, and regardless of the nature of their jobs, the realisation that in amongst all of that harmless cosmic debris was a spacecraft from a supposedly dead planet, containing a member of a race assumed reduced to only one man, firmly placed the day as an extraordinary one in the careers and lives of both agents. 

“Are you certain?” Alex asked in disbelief. 

“The visibility isn’t great,” Winn admitted, squinted into the lens of the telescope again, “But the shape of the ship is fairly distinctive. I really do think it’s Kryptonian.” 

“Any distress calls? A mayday signal? Something else we could use to identify it?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. The uneven flight path suggests that the craft is manned, though. Whoever is onboard has been attempting to steer it out of such a steep decline.”

Their telescope was transmitting a feed of images to the computer beside them, and a new series of grainy photographs flashed onto the screen. The software automatically enhanced the visuals and focused in on the object of their concern. It was clearly a small pod, hardly capable of carrying more than one body, and it had a graceful, aerodynamic form somewhat reminiscent of a dolphin or a shark. 

“How can it be Kryptonian?” Alex exclaimed in frustration, “The planet of Krypton has been gone for years... Superman is the last of his kind.” 

“Perhaps,” Winn ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly, “Or perhaps not.”

“You’re saying that whoever is on that ship could potentially be a rival to the Man of Steel?” Alex clarified, casting her colleague a doubtful look that quickly paled to fear when he could only apologetically shrug in reply. 

A stunned silence briefly descended between them. Glancing down to the monitor in front of her, Alex watched the faint green blip sweep across the radar before dropping out of range entirely. Alerts flashed up onscreen as the tracking system warned them that the ship they were watching had lost so much altitude that it could no longer be detected. 

“It’s down,” Winn grimaced after a moment, reaching over to tap the monitor screen, “By my calculations, with the trajectory it was on and the speed it was travelling, it’s crashed in the desert here, about fifty miles north of where we are now.”

“This is Agent Danvers to DEO Central Control,” Alex grabbed the radio in front of her, “I need a recovery team scrambled immediately to these coordinates. And I want that team to have an armed response unit with them, understood? I am putting us all on high alert, designating this situation a potential risk to life. I don’t want a single civilian with a fifteen mile radius of the crash site. If anyone asks, the official line is military helicopter accident, is that clear?”

There was a buzz of acknowledgement from the speaker and Alex got to her feet. Below them, a flurry of activity was already audible. A screech of tires echoed around the block as the first DEO vehicles shot off into the night.

“I’m going to head out with the unit, can you cover from here?” 

“Sure,” nodded Winn, “I’m on it. We’ll be ready for you when you get back.” 

The DEO had been mostly secure in its assumption that there would be limited civilian knowledge of the exceptional event that had taken place that night. While the skies had been clear, the meteor shower had provided the perfect camouflage for a small craft entering the atmosphere. A highly powerful automated telescope would have been needed to track its progress, and even then, the ship had disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared. 

Its final resting place was fortunately also a remote stretch of wilderness, miles from any human dwellings. With its proximity to the DEO headquarters, this desert area was not unused to unexplained troop presences and strange goings on. The local inhabitants were often more than ready to accept “military manoeuvres” as the explanation for the occasional gatherings of jeeps and personnel in their vicinity, and anyone who made further inquiries into the state activities in the region was met by a wall of bureaucratic impassiveness that was generally effective at quelling interest in the matter. Given this array of circumstances, the DEO had been largely safe in its conclusion that knowledge of the Kryptonian pod’s arrival had been kept securely concealed, and that the operations of Agent Danvers and her team that night would not be seen as extraordinary by anybody who had noticed anything remotely unusual. 

There was just one citizen in National City uniquely equipped to see through the DEO’s deception. There was just one family for whom the implications of a new Kryptonian arrival on Planet Earth were more gravely momentous than those faced by Agent Danvers and her colleagues. 

Lena Luthor had, in fact, become aware of the spaceship’s entry to Earth’s orbit before the operatives at the DEO had.

Her L-Corp premises were downtown from the DEO, sitting as one of the most infamously recognisable establishments in the city’s financial district, despite the company’s recent rebranding efforts. She was alone in her office, a lavish space which crowned the new headquarters of the Luthor family’s flagship organisation. 

It was not unusual for the new CEO of L-Corp to be found working into the early hours of the morning. The skeleton security team that patrolled the building after hours were well rehearsed in leaving her undisturbed if business matters detained her in her office overnight. They had followed that same drill on this particular evening too, but it was not work as they imagined that was keeping Lena Luthor up so late. 

Following the incarceration of her half-brother, Lex Luthor, just a few years previously, Lena had become the sole beneficiary of his vast estate. She had inherited not only his businesses, investments and their ancestral home, but also his entire pioneering collection of invention blueprints, research prototypes, and the remains of his personal arsenal that the federal government had not impounded. The quantity of items that had come into her possession was staggering, but the nature of them was even more so. Lex Luthor was a genius, but he was also nefariously unhinged; his creations proved it. 

Reeling from his arrest and the horrors that his trial had revealed, Lena had mothballed their family mansion and sealed the majority of his belongings and innovations in a reinforced vault in the basement of L-Corp. While her scientific disposition was undeniably thrilled at the prospect of accessing the products of Lex Luthor’s brilliance, as his sister, and as a moral being, she was deeply conflicted and repulsed by her older brother’s legacy. Keeping it under lock and key provided the simplest answer to dealing with her uncomfortable inheritance. 

This night was the first time since Lex Luthor had received thirty-two life sentences that Lena Luthor ventured properly into his vault. 

This was not some random exploration into his belongings; Lena knew what she was searching for. At the far end of the cavernous space, she had found it. The object in question was one of Lex’s apparently more innocent pieces of scientific paraphernalia, embodying an era before his motivations had become so warped. An artefact of a time when he had been a mentor, not a monster. It was his telescope: a contraption that he had acquired and begun to modify at the age of sixteen, and a shared joy of theirs that she could recall from their childhood. 

That telescope was now stood on her office balcony, trained up at the stars, waiting impatiently for the meteor shower to begin. Standing beside it, Lena felt a brief spark of youthful exuberance as she too raised her eyes to the heavens. 

Lex had taken the advanced instrument he had purchased and personally customised it. He had begun by adding ever more powerful lenses, and then had made it fully mechanised, designing an AI programme that regulated its functions without manual interference. These alterations plainly demonstrated his gifted intellect, but also his dissatisfaction with watching from afar. He had done everything he could to bring the stars as close as he could, determined to make them a part of his domain. It was an early insight into her brother’s desperate need for control, Lena mused. 

The meteor shower was due to begin, but despite the sky remaining dark and empty for the present moment, the telescope whirled several degrees to the side and began to extend, fixing up to a specific point in the gloom. The visual display unit on the tripod flashed red, and Lena watched in astonishment as the AI dutifully informed her that an imminent Kryptonian threat was present. 

Her initial reaction was that of disappointment. Even this childhood object, which long predated her brother’s criminal dealings, had been tainted by his wretched obsession with Superman and his pathological hatred for all those he deemed supporters of the hostile alien cause. 

Her second reaction was that of amazement, as the live footage of a falling spacecraft began to transmit onto the VDU. Lena was instantly transfixed by the shining beacon that had emerged so unexpectedly from the darkness and into her line of sight.

“And who are you exactly?” she murmured quietly, leaning forward to take a closer look at the images being relayed onto the screen.

The ship was small, sleek and silver, streaking down towards the Earth’s surface like an eagle diving to pursue prey. An explosion of heat erupted at the tip of the pod as it plummeted into the atmosphere, and Lena saw the fins of the craft flicker feebly as if the pilot inside was attempting to level off from their disastrous course. She did not stop watching its progress until the underside of the telescope barrel jolted against her balcony railings and the craft had fallen far from view behind the National City skyline. Her throat constricted tightly as it vanished from sight. 

A cool breeze swept down the avenue, and cheers of excitement rang out from below as thousands of spectators gleefully witnessed the meteor shower overhead. Lena turned her back on it all and returned to her desk to consider her options. 

Picking up her telephone from its holder, she weighed it in her hand, lips pursed in concentration. She had the number that would dial her straight through to the central command of the Department of Extranormal Operations, but she did not have the confidence that they would appreciate hearing from her. 

L-Corp had a series of business contracts with the DEO, supplying them with specialist technology and synthetic chemicals, but she knew that its management firmly believed her ignorant of the unit’s true activities. It only ever designated itself as a branch of the FBI when dealing with external associates, but with almost all of her immediate family featuring on the department’s watchlist, Lena was under no illusion as to what the DEO stood for and what its true purpose was. 

Revealing that knowledge could potentially sow the seeds of mistrust and Lena had worked so tirelessly to weed out. She had done all she could to distance herself from her family’s unscrupulous reputation, renaming her organisation to remove the toxic namesake, and donating prolifically to philanthropic causes. She wanted the company to be a force for good and to escape the poisonous ties of the Luthor past. 

The welfare of that whole enterprise could be undermined by her confessing that she was in possession of classified information about the government’s alien monitoring agency. Her journey towards escaping the connotations of her last name would undoubtedly be devastated if it was discovered that she, a Luthor, had identified a rogue Kryptonian ship using the equipment of Superman’s convicted nemesis. 

She slowly set the telephone back down into its holder and turned off her desk lamp, resolving to return to her lodgings at the hotel where she resided. There was nothing else to be done; this was within the DEO’s purview now. She locked her office and summoned her driver to take her away.


	2. From the Wreckage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara Zor-El's body is pulled from the wreckage of her destroyed ship. The DEO race to keep her alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story. I hope that you enjoy this chapter, I will be updating again soon!

You did not have to stray far from the suburbs of National City for the landscape to change entirely. The concrete jungle, which was full of life and liveliness, quickly flattened into a barren wasteland, where vegetation was scarce and human inhabitance was scarcer. It was a dry, desolate place, and it was the first piece of Earth that Kara Zor-El ever saw. 

It was also very nearly the last. 

In that vast expanse of wilderness, the DEO discovered her mangled ship, lying brokenly in a crater of its own making. The smouldering wreckage had been visible from some miles away, glowing ominously in the darkness as the convoy of vehicles cautiously advanced towards the crash site. The deep scars that the ship’s impact had left in the ground were all in shadow, and it was not until the unit’s floodlights brought them into a harsh relief that the extent of the devastation became clear. 

The ship had been almost entirely crushed by the force with which it had collided with the ground. Its central chamber had collapsed, and its wings had been ripped from the body of the craft and flung outwards, leaving lethal shards of steel jutting out of the earth like shrapnel. It was impossible to imagine that any living being had escaped from such a scene of carnage. 

Alex Danvers was the first person to approach the pod. Motioning for two of her unit members to follow, she edged slowly into the smoking crater, grimacing as she felt the scalding heat of the wreck burning her face. She was handed a fire extinguisher from behind and managed to train the nozzle on the capsule, letting the dry powder disperse the last of the flames that licked around the dented hull. The metal casing groaned violently as it cooled and contracted, and the capsule hood was cracked open fractionally by the force of its casing constricting. 

This presented them with an opportune gap, and Alex was able to lodge a crowbar into the space in order to lever the top open. Where the bodywork of the craft had buckled, the door had been bent out of shape and had become tightly wedged. Others rushed in to help, but despite their best efforts it refused to shift. Alex felt herself becoming increasingly frantic; she was painfully aware that there could be somebody trapped within this tangle of searing debris. 

“Come on!” she bellowed, redoubling on her attempts to prise the door from its frame, “We need to get this thing open, don’t just stand there!” 

Three more people leapt into the crater beside her. She heard the roar of a motor, which was shortly followed by the piercing scream of tearing metal as one of her colleagues applied a cutting tool to the hinge mechanism. There was a blinding spray of sparks and shrieks of protest from the machinery, but the hinges eventually gave way and the door was free. 

“Careful,” ordered Alex, holding her hand up as a signal, “Lift it slowly.”

Above her, the angle of the floodlight was adjusted, directing the beam of artificial light onto the pod’s entrance. The members of the DEO unit blinked uncertainly in the harsh glare, their faces blanched in the white gleam. There was a collective yet unspoken fear about what they might now find. 

Alex gestured tensely to her colleagues, who obediently began to remove the door. It gave way with a short hiss, and she moved forward apprehensively to examine what they had revealed. She had been bracing herself to see all manner of gore and butchery inside the cabin. So great was her expectation to be confronted with blood and horror that she found herself momentarily unable to register what was actually contained within the pod. She took another shaky step towards the ship and drew a sharp breath. 

Lying motionless in the craft was a young woman, with her eyes closed and face serene as if she was slumbering. Her pale face and fair hair were streaked with soot, but on the surface, she appeared miraculously unharmed. Only the turquoise tunic that she wore showed signs of damage, with the corners of the fabric curled and blackened from the fire. Her tranquil presence in the heart of that scene of chaos seemed entirely incongruous. 

Reaching out, Alex tentatively pressed two fingers to the woman’s neck and held her breath. A faint pulse fluttered beneath her fingertips; it was unsteady and weak, but her heart was beating.

“She’s alive!” she shouted, “Get a stretcher down here now and get the medic truck ready to go!” 

There was a sudden flurry of activity as everybody sprang into motion. It was as if the entire unit had been holding their breath alongside Alex, desperately waiting for her verdict. They gently lifted her body from the wreck and Alex raced to assist, finding herself helping to carry the stretcher from the crater. 

In all the commotion and noise, the woman’s eyes flickered weakly open, and her hand closed around Alex’s wrist. Her lips moved faintly, but her words were inaudible with the upheaval around them. The request, however, was unmistakable. In whatever way, in whichever language, she was pleading for help in a manner that could be universally understood, and as she lost consciousness again and her grip loosened, Alex promised her beyond doubt that help was here. 

The convoy set off for National City at a blistering place, as if fleeing from the dawn that was beginning to creep across the horizon. They arrived at their headquarters just before daybreak, largely avoiding the observation of any civilian witnesses. Their wounded patient was taken from the truck and rushed through the corridors, up to the intensive care unit. Alex remained resolutely by her side for the whole journey, already feeling personally responsible for the welfare of this extraordinary stranger.

As they began setting up the life support systems, there was a curt rap of knuckles against the door. Alex turned to see the DEO Director, Hank Henshaw, stood in the entrance with his arms folded and his jaw set, scrutinising the woman on the bed with some curiosity. 

“What’s the situation, Agent Danvers?” 

His tone was even and composed, cutting clearly through the bustle of the ICU room. He radiated the type of cool astuteness that was capable of creating an instant sense that, regardless of the severity of the circumstances, a viable solution was always within reach. 

“She’s alive but her condition is critical,” Alex answered, leaving the bedside to address her superior directly, “She was unconscious for nearly the whole time that we were in transit from the crash site and her vitals are all over the place. We also still need establish the real extent of her injuries. She looks physically unscathed on a surface level, but we could potentially be looking at some sort of internal haemorrhage or trauma.”

“Along with the origin of her spacecraft, the lack of physical injury would seem to reinforce the speculation that she is Kryptonian,” Hank mused, his brow furrowing in thought, “If that is the case, her cells simply need recharging with the solar energy from our yellow sun and her body should heal itself.”

“Perhaps,” Alex frowned slightly, “But it might not be that simple. We don’t know how much exposure she has had to yellow sun energy before now, or how much exposure she would need in order to be able to recover from this level of trauma. The only benchmark we have for Kryptonian healing ability is Superman, who has been living under a yellow sun since he was a baby.”

Hank nodded in understanding. 

“You’re saying it could be possible that her entry into our solar system was the first contact she has had with yellow sun radiation? That, if she is Kryptonian, she may not have sufficient charge present in her cells to facilitate superhuman healing abilities?” he clarified. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Alex confirmed, “So far, she hasn’t showed any signs of actual recovery. If anything, she has deteriorated. I’m starting to think that her body is trying so hard to heal itself that it might be draining its own cells of their lifeforce faster than they can replenish it.” 

As if to illustrate her point, the machines around the bed suddenly let out a series of frantic beeps, and the line that had been flashing rhythmically across the electrocardiogram fell flat. A nurse swiftly attached the pads of a defibrillator to the woman’s chest, and her whole body gave a violent convulsion as a shot of electricity raced through her torso, seeking to restart her heart. 

“Stand clear!”

Alex could have sworn that she felt her own heart seize up in sympathy. There was a ghastly pause, and the team of medical staff stood back as another shock was applied. The woman’s body twitched limply on the bed before the line on the ECG abruptly stuttered, heaving into a little crest as it found a pulse to track once more. 

For a moment, the peril appeared to have passed, but then the woman’s body jolted again as if she was still being shocked. She quivered and shuddered, her back arching as the muscles across her body stiffened with an agonising intensity. 

“She’s seizing!” somebody shouted. 

Alex leapt forward instinctively but found herself thrown backwards by a blast that left her ears ringing and purple blurs dancing across her retina. She held her hand up to shield her eyes, squinting against the lurid red light that had seemingly exploded from nowhere. The acrid smell of smoke and burning plastic filled the room, making the back of her throat sting.

Chancing a look through her fingers, Alex could see that the woman was still lying on the bed, her body continuing to shake uncontrollably. Her face was contorted, her eyes were wide open, and from them blazed two flares of laser light which were incinerating the ceiling tiles above. The oxygen mask that had been strapped to her face was thrown to one side, and the tank that it had been connected to was hissing wildly as the gas escaped its broken cannister. 

It was as if some invisible force had taken possession of her body, intent on ravaging it. She thrashed about helplessly as her vision kept flaming, and Alex could see that some jerks of her body even briefly propelled her off the bed, leaving her levitating momentarily before she fell back to the mattress.

A strong hand curled around Alex’s upper arm and helped pull her to her feet. She turned to see Hank Henshaw drawing her quickly from the room and into the corridor outside, leaving the medical staff and DEO team inside to attempt to wrestle control of the situation. 

“She’s got Superman’s powers!” Alex panted as they reached the walkway, bending double to put her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath, the frenzy of the moment leaving her winded.

“We need to move her out of the med bay to a more secure unit,” Hank told her firmly, “She needs to be restrained.” 

“She needs to be in the ICU,” Alex argued back, finding herself instantly defensive, “She’s clearly gone into shock, she couldn’t control any of that!” 

“That’s precisely what I’m worried about,” Hank replied tersely, “She may need medical help, but our building cannot withstand that type of abuse and I will not risk the lives of my team by putting them in harm’s way. When the seizure stops, take her down to the cell block and put her in the maximum-security containment cell. Right now, that’s the only place that she will be safe.”

“Sir!” Alex protested angrily, but he cut her off sharply. 

“Agent Danvers, the sun has now risen. That means that with every passing minute, the woman in there absorbs its rays and her powers strengthen. She may be injured, and she may well be unable to control what her body is doing, but the fact remains that she is a serious threat to the people who work here, and a threat that is growing exponentially stronger.”

Glancing past him, Alex could see that the woman’s seizure had finally ended. She was slumped weakly on the bed, the sheet beneath her translucent with sweat. Around her lay chunks of plaster and dust, and a steady flurry of ash rained down onto her limp figure from the scorched ceiling. A disconcerted looking nurse was gathering up the various pieces of ruined medical equipment as her colleagues hesitantly returned to their patient’s bedside. 

“Fine,” she reluctantly conceded, “We’ll take her downstairs.”

They had to clear half the building to make the route down into the cell block safe, in case the patient happened to relapse during the transfer. A sudden explosion of heat vision could not be chanced with admin workers and department operatives in range. From a decidedly safe distance, staff watched in amazement as her bed was wheeled down through the DEO, asking in hushed voices amongst themselves who that person on the trolley could possibly be.

The team reached the basement thankfully without incident. They had to push her trolley through the central containment facility, where other alien prisoners pressed their faces to the glass of their cells and watched her pass in curiosity. Some spat and some shouted, but nothing roused the unconscious woman. 

The maximum-security unit was beyond the general cell block, securely away from the other prisoners. The chamber was constructed from titanium beams and reinforced glass and monitored on all sides by cameras and motion sensors. 

It felt inherently wrong to be shutting somebody who appeared so vulnerable and weak away within such a cruel and imposing place of confinement. Alex knew, however, that Director Henshaw was correct in the call that he had made. The woman’s powers made her a hazard; they would have to continue treating her in a place where those trying to assist her were not liable to end up in the unintentional crossfire. 

“I want two guards monitoring her at all times. Any changes in her condition, you get the medics down here at once, okay?” 

The cell door was sealed shut, leaving the woman alone inside. Looking at her then, it suddenly occurred to Alex that, with her strange clothes and her unnaturally pristine visage that almost glowed under the clinical blue LEDs, there was something undeniably alien about the individual in her care. Otherworldliness seemed to emanate from her very being. 

When Alex returned upstairs, she could hear the hum of rush hour traffic outside. National City was just waking up, while she had hardly slept in over twenty-four hours. She was greeted in the control room by an equally tired looking Winn Schott and the ever enigmatic Hank Henshaw. 

“She’s in maximum-security,” reported Alex tensely, “She’s safe for the time being, and she seems to have stabilised. But there’s no natural sunlight down there. I’m worried that if we leave her in there for too long, she might lose her healing abilities altogether.” 

“I’ve thought of that, actually,” Winn interjected, holding out his tablet to show Alex a diagram, “I’ve figured out a way to synthesise yellow sunlight through a lamp, I’ll install one in her cell today. That way we hope she can keep recovering from the crash, but still be secure if her powers flare up again.” 

“Agent Schott has also taken a look at the remains of her spacecraft you brought back too,” added Hank, gesturing to the other man. 

“Yeah,” Winn nodded, “It’s strange, really. The pod is definitely of Kryptonian origin, but under the hood, it’s like a junkyard salvage, all patched up with old bits from other crafts. Both the engine and the internal computer have been recently repaired with parts that aren’t Kryptonian technology and it’s clearly a rough job.”

“What does that mean, do you think?” 

“I can’t be sure yet,” he admitted, “The pod has been in some kind of trouble, and the repairs have been done on cheap. I can’t tell where or who by.”

“That is odd,” Alex agreed, “Is there anything else that might give us a clue as to who she is or where she’s come from?” 

“Yes, actually,” he grinned, evidently pleased with his work as he swiped across his tablet with a flourish to display his results, “The ship’s computer and everything was completely busted in the crash, nothing could be salvaged. But… I did manage to find the black box.”

“No way!” 

“Still sealed and intact,” Winn smiled, “Do you remember when we saw the ship crashing and you asked if there was a mayday call?” 

“There wasn’t one,” Alex recalled, “We didn’t pick anything up.” 

“That’s because her transmitter had blown, it wasn’t outputting any signal. She was trying to make one though, and her black box recorded it all.”

He tapped a button on his tablet, and a crackly audio began to play. It sounded like static at the start, with just white noise whistling through the speakers. Then the crackling got louder, and through the empty fizzling came a lone voice, calling out over and over again. 

“That’s her?” 

“That’s her.” Winn confirmed. 

She was speaking a language that Alex could not understand, and her words were being ripped away by the background roar that must have been her ship falling through the atmosphere to Earth. Her cries were desperate, and as she listened, Alex realised that the woman was repeating the same plaintive utterance on a loop. 

“What’s she saying?” she asked hoarsely, feeling the words catch in her throat as her eyes welled up.

“Unfortunately, my Kryptonian is a little rusty, so we ran it through the DEO translation software instead. It’s a bit of a rough estimate because we just don’t have that much data on the language, but as far as we can make out, she’s telling us that her name is Kara Zor-El and that she’s a refugee, and she’s asking for emergency assistance.”

The voice in the recording kept playing, still crying out again and again. Alex thought of her trapped in the ship, plummeting to the ground, pleading for help from a world that could not hear her. It made her want to cry. She glanced up to see Director Henshaw looking similarly moved, his glistening eyes betraying the emotions he felt in a way that was startling unusual for him. 

“Kara,” Alex repeated, thinking of the woman on the table downstairs, “There’s so much that we want to know when you wake up.”


	3. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank Henshaw and Alex Danvers go to L-Corp. Winn Schott has his concerns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that you enjoy this chapter, I had fun writing it! Thank you for reading, and if you get the chance to leave kudos or want to add a comment, that would mean a lot. I'll be updating again soon!

Kara Zor-El was not waking up. 

Her heart had been restarted four times in as many days, and her condition showed no signs of real improvement from the time that she had been brought to the DEO nearly a week ago. 

Winn Schott’s yellow sun lamps had provided a brief glimmer of hope. From the point that they were installed in her cell, the colour had begun to return to her cheeks, and the bluish tinge around her lips had faded. Then her whole body had been rocked by yet another seizure, and the burst of heat vision that she had emitted during the fit had been so powerful that it had nearly melted the reinforced glass behind which she was held. 

Her medical team had found themselves trapped in a subsequent cycle of violence. In order to ease her seizures, the yellow sun lamps had to be powered down, thus reducing her superhuman abilities and returning her to a position of stasis. This only provided temporary relief, however. Once her cells were sufficiently starved of solar charge, her healing powers failed, and she re-entered cardiac arrest. The process would then begin again. 

“This isn’t sustainable,” Hank stated plainly to Winn and Alex, as he joined them at the young Kryptonian’s bedside following her fifth brutal resuscitation. 

The pads from the defibrillator were still attached to her chest, and the ceiling of her cell dripped with ice melt as the freezing exhalation from her lungs slowly thawed. Singe marks littered the walls, and one of the supporting titanium beams bore a hand-shaped dent where one of her arms had inadvertently lashed out during the course of one of her seizures. 

“You’re not suggesting we give up?” Alex exclaimed, scandalised at the possibility.

“No, I’m not suggesting we do that,” Hank replied promptly, dismissing her concerns, “But we do need to try a new approach.”

“I don’t know what else there is to try,” Winn answered honestly, “We can’t penetrate her skin with needles, there’s no way of performing investigative surgery or administering steroid injections. We can’t even get her hooked up to an IV line.”

“And you’re no closer to reaching a diagnosis?” Hank asked.

“Actually, we’re starting to strongly suspect a brain injury,” Alex regretfully disclosed, “We’ve recorded huge spikes in brain activity when her cells begin to absorb solar charge and her powers develop. Those spikes are then followed by the seizures. It’s like there are all these new signals and information that her brain has to process as her powers form, and if she has sustained a head trauma and there’s swelling inside her skull, it would explain why exposure to the yellow sun lamps then leads to a fit. It’s like the actual development of her superhuman abilities is aggravating the damage to her brain before she becomes capable of fixing it.”

“Then her seizures trigger her biological defence mechanisms, which drain her cells of the charge they need to sustain her superhuman healing abilities anyway. And, the seizures don’t stop until the lamps are off, so she’s stuck in a loop,” Winn delivered the grim prognosis dismally. 

Hank Henshaw absorbed the information carefully, rubbing a hand contemplatively across his jaw as he processed the matter in hand. 

“So, the crux of the issue is trying to find a way to let the sun lamps do their work without her body or her brain going into shock?”

“Yeah,” Winn pulled a face, “And we have no idea how to do that.” 

There was a heavy pause; the only sound in the room was the low whirring of the generator running the equipment in the cell. Alex glanced to her side, watching Kara’s chest slowly rise and fall in time with her shallow breaths.

“Hang on,” she said suddenly, realisation dawning on her face, “I think I’ve got it.”

“You do?” 

“We need to medically induce a coma,” she said, her voice carrying the clear traces of exasperation that it had taken her so long for the idea to be conjured. 

“With what?” asked Winn incredulously, “We’d need an anaesthetic powerful enough to put her under and keep her there. Even if we had access to a sedative that was strong enough, I’m not sure how we’d get it into her system.”

“Would it work though, theoretically?” Hank interrupted, raising his hand to bring them to order. 

“I suppose in theory, yes,” Winn conceded, “If our hypothesis is correct and she has a brain injury, inducing a coma should suppress brain function and allow her injuries to heal under the influence of the yellow sun lamps, without it triggering any further seizures.”

“Her healing powers could develop and start functioning without causing any further inflammation to her brain,” Alex added, her tone beginning to betray her excitement. 

“But, like I said, I’m not sure the DEO has access to any sedative that is capable of maintaining a stable Kryptonian coma. Certainly nothing that is tried and tested.” Winn interjected, holding his arms up in a sign of defeat. 

“It’s true that our grasp of Kryptonian biology is limited,” Hank gave a frustrated sigh, “Until last week, we believed Superman to be the last of his kind, and he resolutely will not work with or alongside the government. Our research and resources in this field are, unfortunately, lacking because of it.”

“Our resources, yes,” Alex pointed out, “But surely we can reach out beyond the DEO. I mean, we’ve got Lord Technologies a few blocks away, or…” 

Her voice tailed off, and Hank looked up sharply. His gaze was piercing in its perceptiveness, and he seemed to be able to discern the thought that had entered her mind and so nearly broadcast itself from her tongue before she had bitten it back. 

“Or L-Corp?” he suggested quietly, offering her the option that she had lost the nerve to speak aloud. 

“Lena Luthor,” she softly confirmed, “She’s in National City.” 

The apparent preposterousness of the idea briefly stunned them all into silence. The absurdity of the proposition was paradoxically poetic, and not one inch of irony was lost on any of them. It made a strange kind of sense, yet almost felt too senseless to even contemplate. 

“She could certainly provide us with an opportunity,” Hank mused after a time, folding his arms squarely across his chest in a stance that became inadvertently defensive. 

Alex shifted uncomfortably on the spot, her conscience warring hard with itself. In the context of alien affairs, particularly those relating to the Kryptonian race, the name Luthor was loaded with connotations of the most diabolical kind. Lex Luthor’s long and reprehensible history of violent transgressions against Krypton’s last son had irreversibly transformed his family name into a byword for everything that was dark and dangerous and alien-hating. 

Lena Luthor’s recent acquisition of L-Corp had been the first step in the rigorous campaign to distance the family and its assets from their unfortunate associations with Lex Luthor and his supporters. Following his well-publicised trial and incarceration, there had been an extensive re-branding project, and the company’s headquarters had been moved away from Metropolis, the home of Superman, and out to National City. 

Even with the change of management and ethos in the Luthor family business, however, it was undeniable that the mere suggestion of reaching out to a member of that infamous dynasty created certain unfavourable impressions. Just uttering the notorious name at the bedside of a sick and vulnerable Kryptonian refugee felt like a violation.

Yet, Alex thought, watching the young alien dangle precariously from the single thread that separated life and death, it may well be their only option. It was an indisputable fact that no human being knew more about the Kryptonian race than Lex Luthor, and with his imprisonment, that vast wealth of knowledge and material was now in the hands of his sister. If anybody held the potential panacea to Kara’s condition, it was Lena Luthor. 

“You’re not serious,” Winn surmised, looking between them both hurriedly, “You’re not… Are you? Are you serious?”

“Am I renowned for my tendency towards insincerity, Agent Schott?” 

“Famously not,” the younger man swiftly acknowledged, “But you’re talking about approaching the Luthors… to ask for help on behalf of a Kryptonian! As in, the Luthor family whose prodigy son is set to spend the rest of his days in jail for making it his life’s work to destroy Superman?”

“But think about it,” Alex responded in a quiet voice, “It was Lex Luthor’s life’s work… Which means that his family has amassed years’ worth of research and technology…”

“Yes. To kill Superman!” Winn interrupted impatiently, “Shouldn’t they be the last people on Earth that we consider going to with this?”

“But we’re not talking about the Luthors,” Alex interposed, “It’s not Luthor-Corp any longer. It’s L-Corp, and as their new CEO, Lena Luthor has made it quite clear that she is distancing herself from Lex Luthor and all his past dealings...”

“Maybe so, but Lena Luthor is still Lex Luthor’s sister,” Winn pointed out. 

“His sister who supplied the evidence that helped to prosecute him. His sister who testified against him in a court of law,” countered Hank evenly, “Besides, L-Corp now has three supply contracts with the DEO… or the ‘FBI’ in official terms. We have communication channels in place, it’s eminently feasible for us to make discreet inquires. Nothing sensitive would necessarily have to be divulged.” 

“It just seems like a risk to me,” Winn responded uneasily, “I’m not sure Luthors and Supers are meant to work together.”

“I thought I was usually the sceptical one,” Alex looked across at Winn, who returned a rueful half smile. 

“I thought so too,” he shrugged awkwardly, “I guess Superman has always been an idol of mine. I’m struggling to reconcile that with the thought of joining forces with the family of his arch enemy. What would he do if he discovered that the DEO had another Kryptonian in their custody and was using Luthor technology on her?”

“Agent Schott, the DEO already works with L-Corp, and we deem Miss Luthor to be a responsible and ethical partner,” Hank reminded him sternly, “And when it comes to Superman, he does not affiliate himself with the government, so in frank terms, this isn’t his concern. This is governmental business, it’s not personal, and it’s certainly not about ‘joining forces’ with arch-nemesis or any such sensational melodrama, is that clear?”

The urge to resist flickered across Winn’s face. His jaw twitched, but he worked it into a short laugh, and yielded with trademark good humour. 

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll telephone her offices and arrange a meeting as soon as possible,” Hank declared, satisfied that a consensus has been met, “Agent Danvers, I want you to accompany me.”

The agreement between them was reached, and within two hours, Hank and Alex were departing the DEO for the L-Corp headquarters. While Hank’s initial phone call had been taken by an assistant who had robustly assured him that Miss Luthor was entirely unavailable for the next three days, that message had been nonchalantly overridden by a subsequent email from her office, informing him that a meeting space had suddenly opened up. He suspected that the assistant’s superior had caught wind of his name and FBI status, and had found her interested consequently piqued. 

Their taxi drew up outside of the L-Corp building, and they stepped out onto the curb, finding themselves in the shadow of the colossal architectural monument to Luthor enterprise. This was the new seat of the family’s power, and the illimitable steel structure that soared effortlessly towards the sky left them in no doubt that this was also, in effect, a fortress. The new L-Corp logo may have adorned its walls, but Lex Luthor’s distinctively arrogant and ostentatious design flair was irrepressible. The mark of his influence was everywhere. 

A quick flash of their faux FBI badges at the door allowed them to bypass security, and the man at the reception desk checked their names against his list and confirmed that, yes, Miss Luthor was expecting them. He called the elevator, and as the doors slid shut behind them, Alex felt an uncomfortable surge of unpreparedness, waiting there in her government issue polo shirt that made the back of her neck itch. 

“Have you ever met her before?” she asked, finding herself restlessly curious. 

Hank gave her a strange look, but acquiesced. 

“Only once, briefly, when L-Corp tendered for their first FBI contract.” 

“What’s she like?” 

“It was a boardroom meeting, not a social call,” he replied vaguely.

Alex felt juvenile, pestering Hank for answers, but her nervousness had got the better of her. The childish feeling was only reinforced when she got strangest sense from Hank that he did have something more to add but was withholding it. His eyes flitted to the panel on the wall, searching expectantly for the light that indicated their arrival to the top floor. 

“Do you think she is anything like her brother?” the question that had plagued her since Winn had expressed such apprehension over their plan came tumbling out. 

“A person cannot just be reduced to one thing,” Hank answered candidly, averting his gaze, “Besides, regardless of whether she shares her brother’s disposition or not, I imagine she would be far too sensible to allow it to rule her like it ruled him.” 

He refused to elaborate, so Alex had to be content. The elevator doors opened, and an assistant guided them to the doors of Lena Luthor’s office. She stepped into the room before them, and there was a brief muffled discussion before she ducked out of office again and gestured for them to proceed. 

The office was an impressively sized space, and Lena Luthor’s presence commanded every inch of it. It was open plan and minimalist, giving them nowhere to hide, and stretched out into floor to ceiling windows at the opposite end, letting the afternoon sun catch them in her crosshairs. 

Lena Luthor rose from her chair as they entered, standing poised at her desk with all of National City falling away behind her. Alex felt the peculiar jolt of recognition that comes with encountering somebody in person that you have only ever seen on television or in the newspaper. Lena Luthor, with her sharp jaw and firm mouth and dark hair pulled tightly back into her trademark severe hairstyle was highly distinctive. 

They had watched her brother’s trial broadcast live just over a year ago, all gathered around the television set in the DEO control room. Lena had been there then, sat silently at the back of the courtroom, observing the proceedings with an inscrutable expression. She was wearing that same expression now as she watched them approach, her eyes politely interested yet heedful. 

“Director Henshaw. Agent Danvers. It’s a pleasure,” she addressed them courteously, smoothing down her black dress and stepping around the desk to greet them.

Her heels clipped sharply on the tiled floor, and she moved with a regal grace and dignity that was rare in somebody so young. Yet it was to be expected; a person of any lesser calibre would have been simply unable to manage the unenviable burden that her brother had left behind. Lena Luthor had risen to the challenge with aplomb.

She firmly grasped each of their hands in turn, before inviting them to sit and swiftly following suit. Hank and Alex’s rigid military posture was at odds with the way she reclined easily into her seat. 

“You asked to see me as a matter of urgency,” she stated calmly, raising her chin as she studied them both in turn, “I take it that this impromptu visit is not regarding any of the current contracts that L-Corp holds with your department?” 

Hank tilted his head in acknowledgement. “That’s well deduced.”

“Then how can I help you?”

He paused momentarily, appearing suddenly wary. Lena noticed his hesitation and visibly stiffened.

“We have actually come to ask for your assistance on a more… personal matter,” he cautiously disclosed, “It’s an odd request, we realise, but we hope you’ll permit us asking.”

“A personal matter?” Lena’s eyebrow arched, and her expression darkened slightly, “Director Henshaw, in my experience, when somebody comes to me wanting to talk about something ‘personal’, what they really mean is they want to talk about something ‘Luthor’. Is that the case here?” 

“More or less,” he contritely admitted. 

“Then let us be honest with one another,” she said, leaning forward intently, “I cannot stand prevaricating. I may be in business now, but I am a scientist by profession, and I have always favoured the direct approach. L-Corp’s cloak and dagger days are firmly behind it. So, you tell me what you want, Director Henshaw, and we will go from there.”

“We think you may have access to some research that your brother carried out that could be crucial in a case we are currently working on.” Alex spoke up, finding her voice at last after sitting tongue-tied since they had arrived. 

The focus of Lena’s gaze switched rapidly, and Alex found herself tensing as the youngest Luthor’s green eyes bore into her skull. For a fleeting second, she could have sworn that Lena was reading her innermost thoughts. 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”

It was a challenge, Alex realised. Lena had established that she had the upper hand, and she wanted them to play by her rules while they were in her domain. She was willing to cooperate, that much was clear, but it would have to involve concessions on both sides. Lena Luthor was not the type to readily capitulate.

“We suspect that your brother collated key information on Kryptonian biology, and we would appreciate having the chance to look over his papers, if you still have them.” Hank ventured. 

“You want access to Lex’s archive?”

“Yes, we do.” 

“And who’s we? The FBI?” she tried him.

“Yes.”

“No, it’s not.” she countered sharply, “Who do you really work for?” 

The vein running across Hank’s left temple throbbed. He reached into his jacket to retrieve his ID, but before he had managed to extract it from the inside pocket, she intervened.

“You and I both know that isn’t the real deal,” she told him stonily, nodding at the faux FBI badge in his hand, “Put it away.”

“Excuse me?” 

“We've met before, I know you work for the government, but you’re not FBI,” she reiterated, “If we’re going to have this conversation, I need you to be honest with me about what I’m dealing with. When I inherited my brother’s estate, I made a promise that I would protect the world from the things he created. I will help you, if I can, but I am not about to sign Lex’s papers away to anybody unless I know that they have been frank with me about who they are and what they really want to use it for.” 

Alex looked at Hank, who stared straight ahead. Lena patiently waited for him to assess his position. The sound of cogs whirring in his brain was practically audible. It was the first time Alex had seen her boss genuinely ruffled, and the tension in the air hung thick. They needed the information she had, but Lena was charging a steep price.

“Fine,” he relented at last, “Fine. But if we have this conversation, I’ll need your guarantee that you’ll put your name on every non-disclosure agreement form that we push your way.”

“Naturally,” Lena shrugged, “That’s really not an issue. My issue is that, when it comes to something like this, I need complete transparency. With Lex’s legacy, the buck now stops with me. It's not about L-Corp or business, it's much more than that.” 

“We understand,” Alex told her soberly. 

Hank slowly tucked the badge away and straightened his jacket, brushing an imperceptible speck of dust from his sleeve. 

“Agent Danvers and I work for the Department of Extranormal Operations, but I’m getting the feeling that you already knew that,” he began, his tone carrying a hint of the sardonic as his displeasure became conspicuous. 

“Considering the history my family has with the DEO, it would have been hard for me to remain oblivious,” Lena reminded him coolly.

“I won’t waste your time in explaining our jobs titles, in which case,” he answered wryly, “But, we recently had a new arrival to Earth that we have taken in… Someone who is highly vulnerable and needs specialist care, and we simply don’t have the resources to look after her properly.” 

Lena drew a slow breath. 

“So, this is about that Kryptonian ship that crashed five days ago, yes?” 

“You knew?” Alex exclaimed. 

“Not intentionally,” Lena assured her, “I was watching the meteor shower, our AI software picked up the anomaly.”

“And you didn’t think to report this to us?” 

Lena gave a humourless laugh.

“Report it to a clandestine organisation that has never formally acknowledged its existence to me, you mean? No. I knew how that would look. Besides, I figured you’d have the matter in hand. It’s your area, right?”

Alex and Hank exchanged glances but left the subject alone. They were both a little startled by Lena Luthor’s extraordinary level of awareness. Although she had remained obliging and upfront throughout the meeting, the scope of her insight had unquestionably left them both rattled. It fleetingly occurred to Alex that Winn’s misgivings about approaching the Luthors may have been more sagacious than she had initially given him credit for. If Lena Luthor was any indication to go by, Alex had no trouble imagining how her infamous family had been so ruthlessly successful for so long; she was utterly formidable.

“Fair enough,” Alex conceded, letting the point slide for the time being. 

“The point is, we have a young Kryptonian woman lying close to death in our medical bay and no way of helping her,” Hank sighed, “Your brother’s work may hold the only key to aiding her recovery.” 

“Lex would be furious if he ever discovered that his years of study and innovation were being commandeered to save the life of a Kryptonian.” 

“Does that deter you from wanting to give us what we need?” 

“On the contrary,” Lena permitted herself a small, brief smile, “It makes me all the more eager to help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's slow burn, and then there's keeping one of your two main characters unconscious for three chapters. My bad!


	4. A Force to be Reckoned With

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena reveals the contents of Lex's vault. Kara takes a turn for the worse. Hank has a decision to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you enough for all the wonderful comments and kudos, it really does mean so much. Thank you for sticking with the story, and I hope that you enjoy this extra long chapter!
> 
> As a warning, the following section does contain some descriptions of medical procedures. I am also definitely not a doctor, so I hope the "science" included survives scrutiny!

Lex Luthor’s vault was buried in the very bowels of L-Corp, lying in a vast basement hollowed out beneath the foundations of the building. It was a design feature that he personally had added to the construction plans for Luthor-Corp’s new National City headquarters, intending it to act as a luxurious private display cabinet for a number of his most prized innovations. Ironically, it was now regarded as a humiliating prison for some of his most shameful creations.

The basement level could not be reached by the public elevator and was only accessible by a separate lift shaft that required four passcodes to permit a user entry. Most L-Corp employees were unaware of its existence and it was rarely accessed. As such, the inventions that Lex Luthor had believed would lead humanity to a new dawn instead sat in perpetual night deep underground.

The air down in the basement was cool and stale when they entered. Alex, who was not easily perturbed, found herself undeniably spooked by the way the slightest noise echoed eerily around the wide concrete chamber. Long bar lights hung from the ceiling, offering a cold illumination of the bleak space. One bulb fitting in the corner appeared to have come loose, causing the light to weakly flutter on and off with soft camera shutter-like plinks that made Alex feel like she was being watched.

Lena led Hank and Alex through rows of filing cabinets and piles of equipment shrouded in plastic sheeting to a large porthole-shaped bronze door at the far end. She tapped a series of numbers into the keypad beside it, performed a retina and fingerprint scan, and then somewhat reluctantly stood back as the biometrically sealed lock clunked open and the door swung forward.

For such an extravagantly stylised door, the contents of the vault appeared disappointingly grey and boxy. At first glance, it did not appear much different to the objects stored in the rest of the basement. Hoards of treasure in the care of a prehistoric dragon would have been more appropriate, Alex mused as she observed in the unremarkable interior.

The vault was lined with shelves bearing crates, each of which was stamped with a series of letters and numbers that clearly corresponded to some sort of archive catalogue. The shelves were dusty, indicating that nothing had been disturbed since the boxes had first been placed there. Alex felt a small sense of relief as she saw the verification of Lena’s claims that Lex’s vault was both secure and untouched.

“This is the inventory for his records,” Lena held up folder, “If you tell me the kind of thing you’re looking for, I can see if there’s anything applicable in here and direct you towards it.”

“Would you mind if I…?” Hank held out a hand and gestured at the folder.

Lena took a step back, holding it just out of his reach. Her features became oddly strained, and she crossed her arm over the binder, keeping it resolutely closed.

“I’d really rather you didn’t,” she shook her head, “It’s not personal, it’s just… This place is a little like Pandora’s box. The fewer people who know what’s in here, the safer it is for everybody.”

“If the contents concern you that much, maybe they should be in the hands of the government,” Hank suggested stiffly.

“I think that’s a little naïve, don’t you?” Lena cocked her head to one side, “I don’t trust governments, as a rule.”

“We’re the government,” Alex responded quietly.

“I certainly hope that isn’t true,” Lena levelled with her, looking her squarely in the face, “If I really thought that was your primary motivation, you wouldn’t be in here. Right now, I believe your goal is a solely philanthropic one, and that makes all the difference.”

Hank held firm for a series of seconds, before relenting and stepping back.

“Okay. Alright.”

Lena relaxed and the tension partially dissipated, but Hank still appeared unconvinced. He had been so sure that he could run these negotiations under his own terms, yet Lena had downright undermined his governmental position, leaving him on the back foot. It was hard to tell whether his personal or professional pride had taken the greater beating, and he patently found her disregard for DEO authority disquieting.

“I’ve got the patient’s medical report here,” Alex changed the subject keenly, passing Lena an envelope, “We’re suspecting a brain injury, so anything on Kryptonian neurobiology would be useful. We also need to understand how their superhuman abilities develop under a yellow sun and the cellular changes that entails.”

Lena’s eyes scanned across the file, taking in the data on the page. Producing a pen, she underlined a few items on the report and then drew rings around related notes in the vault catalogue, jotting down the codes for archived material that they needed.

“Have you tried inducing a coma to reduce the brain swelling?” she asked after a minute, glancing up at them both.

“Er… yeah,” Alex stammered in surprise, before correcting herself, “Yeah. I mean, we haven’t tried it, but I suggested it. We just don’t have an anaesthetic strong enough to work on a Kryptonian.”

“Is that something you could help with?” Hank asked, “Would your brother have anything we could adapt?”

“I can look but it’s unlikely,” Lena flicked through the catalogue, brow furrowed in thought, “The gadgets Lex designed for use on Kryptonians are almost exclusively created to cause harm. I’m not sure how anything like that could be deployed in a medical context.”

She paused, looking down at her notes, twirling her pen between her fingers deftly as she became entranced in deep thought.

“Unless…”

“Unless?” Alex repeated.

“Well, you know that they say,” Lena squared her shoulders, “There’s only one thing a Kryptonian is truly vulnerable to. Perhaps you actually need the thing that can cause harm.”

“You mean…?” Alex began warily.

“It made Lex furious,” Lena nodded, gaze becoming distant as she derisively recalled her brother’s rage, “That Superman had only one weakness on Earth and Lex couldn’t even synthesise it.”

“You’re talking about using kryptonite,” Hank concluded in a terse voice.

“In some form, yes,” Lena replied, “If we operate under the assumption that kryptonite is the only substance capable of incapacitating a Kryptonian, you might not have another option. I mean, Lex spent years on it and as far as I’m aware, he never found anything else. Judging by your patient’s medical report, you haven’t got long before her body gives out. Thinking about it now, I’m not sure there is anything else.”

“Wouldn’t that be incredibly dangerous, though?” Alex argued back, “Kara is ill enough as it is, without throwing kryptonite into the mix!”

Lena stopped, caught momentarily off guard by hearing the name of the person whose life was now lying in her hands. She registered the word slowly, turning it over in her mind. The name of the woman she had watched fall to Earth. A name that had come from another world.

_Kara_.

There could be no pretence now that this discussion was an empty thought experiment, or a trial restricted to a laboratory setting. The name made her patient real: made her flesh and blood and feeling. Any risks that they took now could carry the greatest of costs. The hard part was determining what the most potent risks were.

“I stand by it,” Lena resolved, “I think that if we administered the correct dosage, we could induce a coma with kryptonite for long enough that her body and brain would be able to absorb the yellow sun radiation without having a seizure set off. I think I could do it.”

She looked earnest, but Alex felt a twist of anxiety in her gut.

“It’s kryptonite,” she shook her head, “You might be sure of your hypothesis, but I don’t know if that’s enough. If we get the dosage wrong, then it would be lethal.”

“Not if it was being carefully monitored as it was applied,” Lena protested.

“I…” Alex faltered, seeing Lena’s conviction, “Maybe, I don’t…”

“I’m sorry, Miss Luthor, but the restrictions around possessing and using kryptonite are very tight now, as I’m sure you’re aware. All the new legislation came in after your brother’s kryptonite arsenal was uncovered and confiscated when he was remanded in custody. We don’t even keep a supply at the DEO now, as requested by my superiors on behalf of Superman,” Hank spoke gravely.

“But the government does have stockpiles,” Lena pointed out, “It’s got Lex’s supply boarded up somewhere at least.”

“It does, but these circumstances wouldn’t authorise us to gain access. Under new government policy, experimenting with kryptonite on an alien life form in a medical setting would be illegal, even on DEO property. The new rulings came in under presidential executive order last year.”

“Director Henshaw, I happen to know that you pretty firmly opposed the introduction of those new kryptonite regulations. Surely under the circumstances, you would be able to find some leeway?” she countered him insistently.

Hank seemed unimpressed by her indirect suggestion of exploiting loopholes. He had a fabled reputation for doing things by the book, and Alex wondered if Lena knew that.

“I don’t think so,” he said, “Particularly not at such short notice… and particularly not if word of your involvement got out. That’s not how I’d have it, I assure you, but breaking kryptonite regulations would be unsuitable enough… doing it with a Luthor, even with all the best intentions… I’m sorry, it’s just not feasible, and that’s before all the complications of actually trying to use it as a treatment.”

His apology appeared bona fide, but Lena was plainly insulted, her tense stance and gritted teeth displaying her displeasure at being refused. When she crossed her arms and turned away to disguise some of her frustration, Alex caught a flash of resemblance to her notorious sibling.

She remembered seeing Lex’s performance in court, playing the insouciant rogue for the gallery, but the act of indifference had never quite reached his eyes. Black fury at the indignity of being treated with such condescension had oozed from his every look, but he had dressed it up with easy words and loose gestures. She could see Lena now working to maintain a tight leash on that infamous Luthor temperament that could be so hard to keep subdued.

“I don’t know what else to tell you, then,” she said flatly, shrugging slightly, “You can take all the reports and files that you think will be of use, of course. And, if there’s more you think I can do, then I will, but at present, I’m not sure what more I can give you. I wish I could say it was my field of expertise but…”

Hank’s mobile phone suddenly rang, shattering the uneasy atmosphere that had descended. He swiftly answered the call, stepping outside of the vault for privacy, leaving Lena and Alex alone. Lena clasped her hands in front of her, standing quietly with her head bowed, politely waiting for him to return.

Alex felt the urge to talk and fill the silence, but she did not know what to say. Lena seemed unbothered by the awkward stillness that had descended, standing patiently there in that ghastly vault that she had sworn to leave untouched, gracefully concealing the discomfort and vexation that she was undoubtedly feeling.

The taste of guilt rose like bile in Alex’s throat as she watched the other woman expertly uphold her professional façade as if this were any other business deal, not a painful foray into a place that she had been trying to leave behind. They had come to her, laden with suspicion, hiding their DEO status, only really interested in her because of her brother’s reputation. Now they were holding her in doubt. They might have asked for Lena’s help, but they had truly only wanted what Lex could give them. Alex could see the offence that they had caused, even if Lena had wrestled her affront from view.

“Do you really think kryptonite is the answer?” she heard herself blurt out.

Lena did not move.

“Yes,” she said, “It makes logical sense, not that the DEO like hearing that from a _Luthor_.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” Lena shot back.

“Just… thank you for helping us,” Alex summoned the courage to keep going, “You didn’t have to, but you did anyway.” 

Lena’s gaze rested on her, appraising the woman behind the words. Alex steeled herself to sustain the eye contact, determined to show her sincerity. When Lena looked away at last, she was half laughing. Alex felt the sickly sense that she was the joke.

“I’m doing it because I want to,” she replied simply, scarcely containing an eye roll, “I know it’s all about Lex for the DEO, and so be it. He’s not a factor for me. I’ve only ever wanted to do good, and I know that the value of what I can contribute far exceeds the name that I share with him.”

“I know.”

Alex was at a loss as to what else to say. She scrabbled around trying to find something more meaningful that might undo some of the damage, but Hank returned before she had a chance to formulate anything adequate.

“That was Agent Schott asking us to go back to the HQ,” he held up his phone, “He’s found a chemical in a type of alien import alcohol that is proven to have an effect on the Kryptonian nervous system. He thinks a compound they have created from it should do the trick.”

Lena raised an eyebrow sceptically.

“Your Kryptonian will be able to metabolise that, surely?” 

“Agent Schott is one of the brightest minds at my agency,” Hank responded a little testily, “I have faith in him and his judgment.”

“I mean no disrespect to your agent,” Lena assured him coolly, “I just mean that her body will likely be capable of metabolising this compound, probably at a rate too rapid to let it function as a serviceable anaesthetic. And how are you planning on getting it into her system?”

“It’s far safer than kryptonite, we know it’s not toxic to her, it’s more readily available to us and my agent believes in it,” Hank returned decisively.

“Alright,” Lena yielded, dipping her head as she gave her concession, “In which case, good luck. I hope you find your solution.”

The line could have been justifiably sarcastic, but Lena did not allow it to be. The best wishes that she offered them were heartfelt and unfeigned. Alex promptly gathered the paperwork that Lena had lent them, clasping the thick bundle of files to her chest.

“Thank you.”

“The DEO is welcome to make copies of all of those and keep them in their records,” Lena indicated towards the folders, “I’d like the originals back though, if that’s all the same to you.”

“Of course, much appreciated.”

Hank offered her a parting handshake that she graciously accepted.

“And we’ll let you know how Kara fares.”

“Please do,” Lena nodded, turning to Alex and holding out her arm to similarly offer her a hand.

Shifting her pile of papers to balance them on her hip, Alex awkwardly took it, feeling something dig into her palm as she did. It made her frown, but Lena gave her a pointed look, passing her thumb across Alex’s knuckles to press firmly on the joints, wordlessly telling her to keep her hand closed. The handshake lingered a mere moment longer than it might have done otherwise, leaving Hank none of the wiser of the transfer that had taken place.

“I trust you can see yourselves out?”

Her implication was thinly veiled, and Hank and Alex took the hint without argument. They turned and left the vault, with Lena watching them intently as they headed back through the basement until the elevator doors cut them off from sight. They reached ground level in a matter of seconds, and the doorman hailed them a taxi that whisked them off into National City rush hour traffic. Hank was sat in the front seat, allowing Alex to discreetly check the item tucked into her palm.

Lena had discreetly pressed a folded-up business card into her hand. It was not the standard L-Corp card that sat in bundles on the reception desks, however. As Alex unfurled it, it became evident that this was Lena’s own card, embossed with black and silver and bearing her personal contact details. In tiny slanted handwriting beneath the print, Lena had written: “Ring me if you need me.”

The gesture was a generous one, offering far more than anybody would have expected of her, especially given how their meeting had panned out. Lena had been selflessly prepared to overlook any differences that they might have had for the benefit of somebody else; somebody she had never even laid eyes on.

Alex was profoundly touched that Lena had trusted her with this direct line. She knew that the offer of help was entirely sincere, for it was obvious that Lena was not in the habit of saying things that she did not mean. 

Tucking the card into her pocket, she felt reassured by its mere presence there. It was in that moment that she realised she could honestly say that she trusted Lena. There was something inspiring about the decided self-assurance with which she handled herself; how it was commanding without being arrogant, and professional without feeling deceptive. Like her brother, she seemed to be governed by a rigid set of personal values, but unlike him, her code of conduct was markedly and doggedly moral. What had been the worst parts of him were some of the most admirable parts of her.

As the taxi dipped through the evening traffic, escorting them back to the place where Kara teetered on the knife edge between life and death, Alex felt her faith in their ability to save her palpably bolstered. Whether it was founded in rationality or not she could not tell, but just knowing that they had an ally in Lena Luthor, who would be there in an instant if she was asked to be, restored some of the hope that she had felt herself lose at Kara’s bedside.

“Was your curiosity sated then?” Hank asked, eyeing her in the rear-view mirror.

“How do you mean?”

“Lena Luthor,” he clarified, “Did you like her? I know you were intrigued.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Alex nodded, “Yeah, I did. She was sort of what I expected and sort of… not.”

“Hm,” Hank hummed contemplatively, “She’s a force to be reckoned with, certainly.”

They drew up outside the DEO and were immediately met by a troubled Winn who hurriedly ushered them indoors.

“She deteriorated while you were gone,” he told them anxiously, leading them briskly down to the cells, “If we don’t act now, we might lose our chance.”

“Is the compound ready?” Hank asked him.

“More or less,” Winn pushed a hand through his hair, “We’re going to have to deliver it as a vapour, we can’t administer it any other way.”

“Is that safe?”

“Sure,” he replied distractedly over his shoulder, five paces ahead of them in the corridor.

They stepped into Kara’s cell block, and Alex was instantly alarmed by the stark change in the Kryptonian’s appearance. Her skin was sallow and waxy, and her whole body was limp, as if the life force had already left it. Astonishingly, she was semi-conscious, but her eyes were glassy and unfocused. Medics swarmed around her, frantically trying to keep her awake. She looked small and feeble in amongst the chaos, helplessly hooked up to a respirator with her scalp plastered in electrodes, the tangle of wires forcing her to be immobile.

“Stay with us, Kara, come on.”

She could only manage a watery blink in reply. A doctor looked up as they entered and gestured impatiently at Winn.

“We need to put her under now.”

“Feed the compound into her respirator,” Winn instructed them, “Take it steady. Alex, can you monitor her EEG?”

Alex moved to stand at Kara’s head, watching her brain activity chart across the electroencephalogram. A new cannister was attached to the tube of Kara’s respirator, and there was a hiss of gas as the vapour was released. Her chest heaved as she inhaled, and they watched with bated breath as her eyes rolled back into her head and flickered shut.

The beeping of her ECG abruptly slowed but then stabilised at around 60bpm, sending a sigh of relief around the room. The lines on her EEG turned from frenzied ripples to gentle undulations, and Alex signalled to Winn that the coast was clear.

“Alright, let’s get those yellow sun lamps on. With any luck, she’ll be up and about and good as new within the hour.”

There was a whir as the lamps powered up, and they were all bathed in the warm glow.

“Stand back, let’s give her some space,” Hank said, waving at the team crowded into the confined cell.

Kara seemed to blossom in the light, as if a sun of her own had ignited within her chest. The jaundiced tint left her skin, and a healthy pink flush filled her cheeks. She looked peaceful, growing stronger right before them with every passing moment.

“Hang on.”

Alex leant forward, examining the electrodes attached to Kara’s head, checking they were in position. Everything was at it should be there, but the previously tranquil sea of lines on the EEG were quickly turning to a storm.

“She’s waking up!” she shouted.

Kara jerked on the bed, then pitched over and was violently sick. Her respirator was torn off, and she began to tremble, slumped over the edge of the mattress.

“It’s the yellow sunlight, Winn,” Alex shouted, “The stronger she gets, the more her body will reject the anaesthetic. It’s not working!”

A doctor raced forward to reattach the respirator mask, but Kara vomited again. Her body was doing everything it could to cleanse her system of the drug being forced into it. Just as the doctor made one last attempt to help her, she was thrown backwards by Kara giving a sudden exhalation, emptying her lungs with the might of a typhoon.

The machine monitors went berserk, flashing and bleeping as Kara’s vital signs rocketed to readings beyond the comprehension of systems designed for humans.

“What can we do?”

“Turn the lamps off! Now!”

Kara’s body was barely visible behind the wall of scientists and medics who had descended, fighting to stabilise her. Alex found herself stood as if she were behind glass, watching the chaos in numb horror, too appalled to act, not knowing what to do. She felt lightheaded, and leant back against the wall, bracing her hands against her thighs. It was then that she felt the little card in her pocket.

Her mind instantly focused and she regained herself. Everybody else was too engrossed in Kara to notice her slip from the room. She sprinted down the corridor, through the control room, and up onto the balcony that sat at the top of the stairs in the main entrance hall. Night had fallen, and it was a calming to be out in the fresh air away from the stuffy, claustrophobic heat of the cell wing.

She shook as she dialled Lena’s number, the adrenaline making her jittery. The call was answered after no more than two rings.

“Lena Luthor speaking. Who’s calling please?”

“It’s Alex… Agent Danvers, sorry.”

“Agent Danvers,” she seemed surprised, “Is everything okay?”

Alex had half expected a detached, businesslike approach, but Lena sounded genuinely concerned. She surmised that the other woman could almost certainly hear her voice wavering with panic.

“I… we need your help. It’s Kara. Our treatment isn’t working.”

“Are you at the DEO headquarters downtown?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’m on my way.”

She hung up. Alex clutched her phone to her chest, bracing herself against the balcony parapet as she fretfully waited for Lena to arrive. Car lights and pedestrians swam in a haze below her.

Twenty minutes later a black Mercedes pulled up outside of the department building and Lena Luthor stepped out, heels clicking sharply on the pavement. Alex had informed the security guards of her imminent arrival and they granted Lena access at once, albeit hardly masking their bafflement at the identity of their visitor.

“Where is she?” she asked, marching across the hall towards Alex, briefcase held tight in one hand.

“She’s this way.”

They began walking until Alex hesitated for a moment, drawing Lena to a halt.

“Hey, listen. I know that you and the DEO haven’t always seen eye to eye on everything, and I know we could have handled things better today but… it means a tremendous amount to us… to me… that you have been so willing to help and have come at such short notice tonight.”

Lena’s expression softened.

“People underestimate me, but I care. I really do.”

“I should probably also mention that Director Henshaw isn’t exactly expecting you. I, um, went a little rogue.”

“Right,” Lena unexpectedly smirked, “Well, you’ve got more guts than I initially gave you credit for, Agent Danvers. Let’s see if we can’t both prove ourselves before the night is out.”

As predicted, Hank Henshaw was indeed startled to see Lena Luthor stride into the DEO cell block. When he saw Alex trailing behind her, his eyes narrowed.

“Agent Danvers?” he cleared his throat, “An explanation, please?”

“She called me,” Lena interrupted, “She told me that Kara’s condition was critical. I made the choice to come here.”

“You shouldn’t even know where this building is,” he pinched the bridge of his nose in vexation, “This isn’t one of your L-Corp hospitals, this is a top-secret government organisation. You can’t just walk in.”

“I asked her here!” Alex intervened, holding her hands up, “We need her. Kara needs her.”

Hank was ready to retort, but the door to Kara’s cell behind them flew open nurse dashed out. All the noise and commotion inside flooded out. Someone was yelling, and there was a cacophony of mechanical warnings. The din was horrifying.

“Let me help,” Lena looked seriously at him.

“We have our regulations and secrets for a purpose,” he reasoned, spreading his hands as he explained, “It’s my job to hold an organisation like this to account. It’s not just about being a stickler for rules, it’s to keep everyone safe.”

“I understand that. Probably better than anyone.”

He paused, glancing behind him to survey the scene. His shoulders sagged a little.

“That being said, I recognise that there are times when exceptions need to be made. Agent Danvers is right. We do need you, and you have generously come to us. I’d be doing Kara an injustice to deny her your assistance now that you’re here.”

He moved aside almost ceremoniously, allowing Lena to go through to the cell. She made to proceed, before pausing to address him again.

“I hope you still feel that way when you see what I’ve brought.”

The cell door opened, and she went through, Alex and Hank following closely in her wake. As they entered, Alex saw Winn’s face holding an expression of utter disbelief, mouth hanging open in incredulity as he registered who had just stepped in. Lena set her briefcase firmly down on the table and rested a hand on top of it, rapping her nails loudly against the lid.

“What I’m about to do is not legal, and anybody who does assist me will technically be an accessory to a crime. I am, however, taking the step to save this woman’s life,” she surveyed the room defiantly.

There was an unsure murmur amongst the medical staff, but Hank made the decision for them. Clapping noisily to summon their attention, he pointed to the door.

“Alright, everyone out!”

After a moment of hesitation, the medics relented, downing tools and filing orderly from the room. One woman stopped in the doorway, reluctantly looking back at Kara’s unconscious form.

“I’m going to do everything I can,” Lena promised her in a gentle voice, “You can trust me.”

The medic nodded mutely and went, leaving just Winn, Hank and Alex behind. Lena turned to her briefcase, unbuckling the clasps that were keeping it sealed. When she opened it, she revealed a row of six glass vials and one hypodermic syringe sat in a padded interior. Each vial contained the same viscous green liquid. 

“Kryptonite!” Winn gaped, “That’s kryptonite! Can somebody please tell me what’s going on?”

Taking the syringe from the case, Lena pressed the needle into one of the vials and slowly pulled up the plunger, drawing the neon substance into the syringe barrel. She then lifted it up to the light, flicking the tube to remove any bubbles of air.

“My brother believed he knew the exact dose that would bring about death,” Lena told them quietly, examining the syringe, “By my calculations, administering 75% of that dosage should bring about an almost instantaneous comatose state.”

“That can’t be safe, let alone legal!” Winn spluttered, gesticulating at the equipment lying out on the table, “Kryptonite is lethal to Kryptonians! Where did you even get it?”

“It’s only lethal in a high enough dose,” Alex placed a hand on his arm, trying to placate him, “It’s the one thing that can actually affect her. We haven’t got anything else, and if we don’t try this, Kara is going to die anyway.”

“Agent Schott, I presume?” Lena interjected, “Look, I wouldn’t be doing this unless I was pretty certain I was right, okay? Kara has minutes left if I don’t act now.”

Winn swallowed roughly, digging a finger behind his damp collar to pull it away from his neck. He was sweating under the glare of the lights, and his usually smart shirt and tie appearance was now dishevelled. Beads of perspiration stood out against his forehead.

“Okay… okay, fine,” he sighed apprehensively, mopping his brow with his sleeve, “I honestly hadn’t even thought of kryptonite, but if you say it will work then… we haven’t got much to lose at this point.”

Lena took that as her cue.

Kara was laying out on the bed beside them. If it had not been for the unsteady pulse being conveyed through the ECG, it would have been easy to assume that their battle had already been lost. Her shine was fading; colour running as if she were an oversaturated watercolour.

With careful hands, Lena took Kara’s arm, pushing up the sleeve of her thin hospital gown and turning her wrist to expose her inner elbow. Her veins were hardly visible with her dehydration, and Lena tapped the skin there, trying to raise them to the surface.

“Come on, Kara,” she muttered, “Come on.”

The faint green trace of a vein eventually rose into being, and Lena knew this was her final opportunity. She glanced over at the face of the woman beneath her, seeing the broken shadow of her being flicker in a contorted sleep behind her eyelids. A suffocating lump of sympathy rose in Lena’s throat, but she roughly swallowed against it, pressing the tip of the needle to Kara’s skin.

“Kara, if you can hear me, I’m so sorry but this is going to hurt,” she said hoarsely.

The needle dipped forward, and the kryptonite surged through. Its effect was immediate and monstrous.

Kara screamed as the chemical ripped through her, crying out as her veins bulged with the luminous toxin. It was everywhere at once, mapping across her body like a spiderweb. She writhed desperately on the bed, trying to drag herself away from the lava pouring through her arteries, gasping for air as the kryptonite reached her jugular.

Then, she was still.

Her breaths continued to come, shallow but perceptible, and the pounding of her heart was just visible beneath her sternum. There was a collective thankful exhale in the room. Lena stayed undaunted at Kara’s side, pressing a wad of gauze against the puncture wound left by the injection. Alex checked the EEG again.

“She’s out,” she told them, trying to disguise the shakiness in her voice, “Let’s get those sun lamps on.”

Winn obeyed, powering the lights up. The bulbs burst into warmth, and purple danced on Alex’s retina as she was caught in the beam. The Kryptonian was engulfed in gold.

Any improvement that they could see in Kara’s complexion felt too good to be true, when so many times before this stage had appeared so deceivingly promising. Yet, as the minutes passed, Kara did not stir, absorbing the radiation that her body so badly needed without showing any signs of discomfort or distress.

A full hour ticked by, and Kara remained steadily comatose. Hank had returned to the control room, and Alex and Winn had taken to the floor, sitting against the wall with their knees drawn up. Lena was stood in the corner, arms folded, chewing her lip as she waited. The absence of anything to say was glaringly obvious; until Kara’s condition changed, for the worse or for the better, there was nothing more they could do.

Winn yanked his tie loose from his collar and discarded it in a tangled heap on the floor, the anxious wait starting to get to him. Alex fiddled tensely with her pen, knowing full well that the repetitive click of the nib being protruded and closed was irritating, but needing something to channel her nervous energy.

“Any changes?” she asked Lena, already aware of what the answer was going to be but wanting to inquire anyway, if just to feel proactive.

Lena indulged her, diligently examining Kara’s vitals again. She inspected the site of her injection once more, seeing that the puncture mark had vanished, leaving her skin unblemished. The neon tracks of kryptonite had similarly subsided, leaving her looking altogether unharmed. She then gently prised Kara’s eyelids open and shone a small torch into either orb, scrutinising the reaction of her pupils.

Her wrist was promptly knocked aside, and Lena dropped the torch in shock as Kara sat bolt upright, suddenly level with her. Bright blue eyes stared into her own as the Kryptonian panted wildly, taking in her surroundings in bewilderment. Winn and Alex leapt to their feet, rushing forward to help pacify the terrified alien. Kara was gripping the sides of her bed, leaving indents in the metal trolley that her mattress sat on, rooted to the spot in fear.

The two agents took control of the situation, and Lena backed away to give them room to work. She knew realistically that this was the point where her involvement would have to end. Kara was in the care of the DEO now.

Gathering her equipment, she made to make a swift exit, but was quickly confronted by Hank Henshaw outside of the cell. He was patently waiting for her. With an incline his head, he signalled that he wished to speak to her out of earshot of the others.

“You know what I’m going to have to ask you,” he said in a low voice when they were a safe distance away.

“Yes.”

“The kryptonite,” he pointed at the briefcase she was holding, “Do you still have access to your brother’s supply?”

“No. This isn’t Lex’s kryptonite. It’s mine.”

“Yours?”

“I figured out how to make it,” Lena pursed her lips, tossing her head back, “Years ago. It was to prove a point to Lex… or to impress him, I don’t know. It was something I could do that he couldn’t. But I never showed him in the end. It would have been reckless in the extreme to furnish him with that information and I knew it. It’s been in storage since then.”

“And you never told the authorities about it? Didn’t even tell us when we came to you today?”

“No. I didn’t want the government involved. You know how I feel about that,” she replied.

“But you still came here tonight with it? Knowing what would happen?” he spoke incredulously.

“Well, like you said earlier. Sometimes exceptions need to be made.”

“I’m going to have to confiscate it, under government policy. You’re going to need to hand it all over to the DEO as a matter of urgency, I’m afraid.”

“Will you press charges for unlawful kryptonite stockpiling?”

Hank’s resolve faltered.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Oh?”

“The agency and I appreciate everything that you have done here tonight but, under the circumstances, it might be best if you go for now. We’ll arrange a meeting time when you can come back here and we can discuss how to proceed then.”

“I see.”

Lena passed him the briefcase begrudgingly, and he tucked it under one arm.

“Thank you.”

She was ready to depart, but one last thought pulled her back before she could. Wheeling around, she watched the cell where the young Kryptonian was now sitting up and wide awake, blinking owlishly at her through the glass.

“You’ll let me know how she does? Kara, I mean.”

“Yes. Of course.”

With a nod, Lena turned and walked away.


	5. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara becomes an in-patient at the DEO and begins to adapt to a life on Earth. Lena pays a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and leaving kudos and such kind comments, it really makes my day. I'm sorry this chapter was so late. I rewrote it several times (and I'm still not entirely satisfied but I did not want to delay on publishing it any longer), so please let me know what you think, I'd really appreciate it. 
> 
> As a note for reading, to distinguish when Kryptonian is being spoken rather than English, I have put that dialogue in itallics. I hope the effect is okay.

In a swirling mass of light and colour, Kara found herself being wrenched into consciousness. White pinpricks burned through her thick sleep, casting out the heaviness that had settled in her bones. There was a fleeting memory of pain and cold, and then she woke into warmth, disorientated and dazed and astounded to be alive.

It took a moment for her surroundings to ease into focus. The air tasted strange in her mouth, and as she fought for her first gulps of breath, her head spun. The concentration of oxygen in this atmosphere was higher than she had been used to, she realised, feeling giddy in her new environment.

She was aware of the presence of another close by, and as she pulled herself upright, she found herself face to face with a woman. Brilliant green eyes stared into her own, bearing the universally recognisable traces of awe and alarm. She looked concerned, and Kara felt the mirror image of the emotion twist in her gut, becoming starkly aware that she did not know where she was or what was happening to her. Was she safe?

The green-eyed woman backed away, becoming a hazy blur of dark hair and pale skin in Kara’s vision. She felt oddly abandoned, trying to work out if she was now alone in this room that she was now inside, if it was a room at all. The walls seemed to shimmer like water.

Blurred memories stirred in her mind like disturbed sediment on a riverbed. She could recall losing control of her ship, finding herself caught in a fall from which she thought she could never survive. She could remember squinting up at a night sky that she did not recognise as flames curled around her crushed vessel, while a woman with a kind face and strong hands tried to pull her free.

That same face seemed to emerge from her mind’s eye into reality, as the familiar figure suddenly stepped into her line of sight.

“Kara?” she asked.

Her name sounded foreign and strange on the woman’s lips, and she grimaced as the aliens around her began to rapidly converse, their language reaching her ears as a confused tangle of punctuated noise. A man had appeared alongside her too, speaking quickly with effusive gestures, and Kara squirmed at the overwhelming clamour around her.

Her hands grasped the side of the bed she was sat on, seeking out solid reassurance, but she recoiled in shock as her fingers sunk into the cool metal bar as if the components were made from wet clay. There was power in her grip that she scarcely could have anticipated.

So, this _was_ Earth. These were _humans_.

She had been sure that she had correctly identified the world from her ship, even when her navigation system become defective. It had been almost unmistakable, hanging like an iridescent jewel in its distinctive solar system, shimmering in the splendour of its yellow sun just as her mother had promised her so many years before. The relief at finding her destination at last had so hastily turned to horror as the pull of the planet’s gravity had lured her pod into a destructive tailspin.

Pressing her eyes shut, she tried to think clearly without her other senses being overloaded. Her whole body ached, and pinpricks of pain erupted beneath her skin each time that she moved. Everything was so _loud_. It was hard to concentrate. She needed to know where she was.

She had studied some of the most prevalent Earth languages in preparation for this moment, in the hope that she would be equipped to engage in communication when she finally arrived. It had been a long time since she had spoken or heard any of them, but if she could find some identifiable feature of their speech, she might know more about what she was dealing with.

When she focused, she could hear that their words sounded a little harsh but did not grate. The patterns of their speech varied little in tone, remaining at a fairly even pitch, and Kara managed to rule out Mandarin Chinese or Spanish on the basis of those observations.

“Kara, can you hear me?” someone uttered again.

_English_ , Kara surmised.

She had so much that she wanted to say, so many questions to ask, and her only medium for relaying it all was a language that she had a worryingly insubstantial knowledge of. Nauseating panic turned her stomach. She was lost; a stranger on a foreign planet, with no ship, no voice, nothing to call her own, and no idea about what would now happen to her.

“Kara, I mean?”

She caught the end of another sentence but realised it had not come from the woman crouched in front of her. There was so much depth to her hearing, and this voice had carried from afar.

Turning her head to the direction of the sound, she found herself at last confronted with the nature of the room that she was in. Her eyes had finally adjusted, and she could properly inspect the surroundings that had foregone her notice until that point.

Certainly, there was a room there, but she was not in it so much as she was partitioned from it, in what could only really be described as a glass tank. The transparent panels gave off a disorientating glare, and as she peered through them to the space beyond, she once again met the pair of green eyes that had been there when she had first come into consciousness. The woman was now on the other side of the glass looking in, and Kara realised that it had been her voice that she had heard, speaking her name aloud.

The fact that everybody here knew her name was disconcerting. The fact that she was being kept inside of a glass box made her panic. She had half assumed, half hoped, that she was in some kind of hospital, given the gown she was wearing and the bed she was on. A creeping doubt told her now that she was likely somewhere much less benign.

“Kara?”

Her hand was gently patted, and she jumped in shock, whipping her head around as her attention was pulled back into the cell. The woman from the crash site was knelt before her, her face soft with worry.

“I’m Alex,” she said, pointing at her chest and enunciating slowly, “Alex.”

“A…lex?” Kara repeated croakily, throat tight and dry after so long without use.

“Yes,” Alex nodded, smiling in affirmation, “Yes, that’s right.”

“Alex… Mercy.”

Alex’s face fell instantly.

“What?”

“Mercy, Alex.” Kara said again slowly, “Mercy, please.”

Kara hoped she was saying it correctly. This was one of the first words that she had ever learnt in English. Her mother had taught it to her. It was an important word that told a human person that you were no danger to them. It was a word that asked that other person to take care of you.

“Mercy.”

She began to think that her mother had mistranslated the word, or that all the years this alien language had sat dormant in her brain had caused the words to age and corrode in her memory. Alex’s face did not appear glad as Kara hoped it might have, but rather shocked. Then again, Kara had never seen human gratitude before. 

“Kara, nobody is going to hurt you,” Alex shuffled forward anxiously, causing Kara to lean warily back at the increased proximity.

“Going to hurt?”

She could only parrot the phrases that sounded vaguely familiar, coherent speech still eluding her.

“No,” Alex shook her head firmly, “No hurt. You’re safe here Kara, okay? I promise that you are safe here with us.”

Kara could have sobbed with the frustration of not understanding. In her native language, she was articulate and knowledgeable. Here on this strange new world she was barely intelligible, and the planet where she had been known and loved and understood was lost forever. The fear that she felt was paralysing.

“ _Who are you? Where am I?”_ she demanded, bursting into Kryptonian in her anguish.

“I’m so sorry, Kara, I don’t understand,” Alex apologised hurriedly, trying to soothe her, “We’re going to try and help you, though, you don’t need to worry.”

The other man who had been there before suddenly returned and knelt beside Alex. He had a sweet face and a lopsided smile.

“I’m Winn,” he slapped his sternum cheerfully.

“Winn,” she dutifully repeated.

“Yeah, that’s spot on, kid,” he grinned, “And I’ve got something for you. Might mean we can understand you a bit better.”

He held out a tablet, showing Kara the screen.

“If you speak into this, it will translate it into English, so Alex and I know what you are telling us.”

“I speak?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Go ahead, give it a try.”

He offered it out again, gesturing that Kara should talk. She swallowed heavily, stammering as she tried to get the words out.

“ _Where am I?_ ”

A sound wave rippled on the screen, and then a computerised voice rang out.

“Where. Am. I.”

“Alright, great!” Winn clapped his hands gleefully, making Kara flinch, “It works!”

“You’re on Earth, in America,” Alex told her, keeping her pronunciation slow and steady, “This is National City.”

Kara stared searchingly at the tablet for words that she could comprehend, but nothing came out.

“Does it work in reverse?” Alex prodded Winn in the shoulder, “Will it translate English to Kryptonian?”

“Er… sort of. Not very well.” Winn confessed, looking sheepishly between Kara and Alex, “We have enough basic Kryptonian vocabulary that the software can pick up what Kara is saying and turn it into understandable English. But, the other way around, we haven’t got any real grasp of Kryptonian grammar. Anything complicated we say into it will likely come out as gobbledegook at the other end. It’s sort of like how you can’t do your language homework with Google Translate, you know?”

“So, at best, it functions as a dictionary for us?”

Kara looked at them blankly, lower lip trembling. Alex tried to give her a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Winn admitted, “The software should learn over time, the more it hears Kara. It will get better but right now, it’s pretty rudimentary.”

“Great,” Alex seethed sarcasm, “And we don’t have anyone else who speaks Kryptonian who could translate?”

“Well,” Winn laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, “Superman was raised on Earth, he’s well known to speak next to no Kryptonian. The only human I’ve ever heard of who has any knowledge of the Kryptonian language is Lex Luthor. He wrote all of his legal notes fluently in it when he went to court, I remember seeing it on TV.”

“Oh, of course.” Alex rolled her eyes, “Actually, speaking of, where did Lena go...?”

“Miss Luthor has had to leave. She’ll be back presently; I just have to deal with some intra-departmental legalities first.”

Hank had entered the cell without anybody noticing, and they collectively jumped at the sound of his voice echoing in the confined space. Kara instantly went rigid, tensing at the sight of yet another stranger. Her muscles coiled like springs, giving her the appearance of an animal trapped in a pair of headlights.

“Intra-departmental legalities?” Alex frowned, “What does that even mean? We need her! Kara wouldn’t be here without her and now…”

“I know. It’s in hand,” he brushed her concerns aside, “The use of kryptonite and the breach of our NDA arrangements has thrown up some issues, but I’m sorting it. Discreetly. Miss Luthor just needs to be off the premises while I make the necessary arrangements.”

Hank moved to the centre of the cell, standing directly in front of Kara. She shifted apprehensively under his gaze, knuckles turning pale as she interlocked her fingers and twisted them restlessly together. She was trembling all over, and Hank stepped backwards sympathetically, trying not to overcrowd or intimidate her.

“ _We welcome you to Earth in peace and good heart. Upon us you can rely for all that you need, for our house is yours under Rao._ Welcome to the Department of Extranormal Affairs in the United States of America.”

Kara startled at the old Kryptonian custom greeting that Hank had slowly recited. She seemed to be searching for a response, staring open-mouthed at him before suddenly dissolving into a fit of agonised tears. The flood that she had been holding back burst through the dam all at once. Her head fell into her hands, and she wept desperately, pulling her hair at the roots as sobs racked her body.

She looked utterly tormented, and Alex felt powerless to do anything. Yet Hank, casting aside his usual immovable and steadfast demeanour, instantly dropped to his knees and clasped Kara’s shaking hands in his own, letting her fall forward to cry against his shoulder. He stayed calm and still, murmuring gentle pacifications to her, letting her sob until she had exhausted herself, so all that could be heard were tiny, stuttered gasps.

“Agent Schott, please fetch Kara a wheelchair. I’ve had conference room 4B converted into a makeshift bedroom, I think we should take her there now. She needs privacy and space.” Hank spoke in hushed voice, trying his best not to disturb the distraught woman he was comforting.

Winn quickly did as he was asked, and Hank gently helped Kara into the chair when he returned. Her tears had quite subsided now, but her eyes were red raw and beginning to droop shut. She was completely silent as they took her up to the top floor to find the conference space Hank had ordered to be set aside for her.

The room was just off the main corridor on the balcony above the entrance hall. One wall was all glass, but the blinds had been drawn to provide some privacy. The conference table had been taken out and a bed had been set up in the corner, with crisp sheets tucked neatly over a thin mattress. A pile of DEO issue clothing sat folded on a chair beside the bed along with a fresh hospital gown.

Alex took Kara into the room herself while Winn and Hank waited respectfully outside. She helped her to change, and almost as soon as the Kryptonian’s head hit the pillow, she was fast asleep. It was evident that she was drained from her experience and still suffering with the traces of kryptonite that remained in her bloodstream. She sank like a lead weight in water, sleep dragging her down before she could begin to resist.

For a little while, Alex sat quietly with her, perched gingerly on the chair at her bedside. As she slept, Kara reflexively curled up into a foetal position, pulling the sheets tightly around her as she drew her knees into her chest. Alex found herself wondering when Kara had last been in a bed of her own; she seemed to sleep the tense, heavy sleep of someone used to resting infrequently and poorly. Comfort appeared to be a foreign concept to this weary traveller.

Eventually Kara rolled over, facing towards the wall and subsequently hiding herself from any further inspection. Alex took that as her cue to leave and slipped from the room into the corridor where Hank was stood. Winn had already gone home.

“Is she settled?”

“Out for the count,” Alex nodded, “She clearly needs it.”

“We can’t begin to imagine what she might have gone through before she came here… what she might have seen.” Hank glanced up at the closed door behind them.

“Winn said her ship showed signs that she hadn’t arrived here directly from Krypton. There were odd recent repairs with non-Kryptonian tech,” Alex mused, “Where do you think she has been all this time? Given that Krypton perished years ago?”

“Only she can tell us. And, as much as I’d like answers, I won’t rush her. That would do far more harm than good at this stage.”

His words trailed off and he turned his head away, hands planted rigidly on his hips. The DEO building was now deserted given that it was the early hours of the morning, but he stared down into the foyer as if there was some flurry of activity that had hooked his interest.

“Do you have kids, sir?” Alex asked him abruptly, rousing him from the distraction.

He looked across at her sharply, seizing up as if she had just winded him.

“Why’d you ask?”

“Sorry, I just realised that I wasn’t sure if you did. It was the way you looked after Kara… you reminded me a little of my dad, that was all. I hope that’s not a weird thing to say.”

“Oh.” he blinked, shifting uncomfortably on the spot, “Well, no. As you’ve asked, no, I don’t.”

The conversation cut short, and Alex realised that her own head was too thick with fatigue to revive it. Seeing Kara tucked up and recovering made her ache to be in her own home, safe and warm.

“I think I’m going to call it a night, if that’s alright, sir. Call me if back in if you need me or if she wakes up and something’s wrong.”

“Sure thing. Thank you, Agent Danvers.”

“Night, sir.”

“And Alex? Good job today. Kara owes you her life… We couldn’t have managed this without you.”

“Or without Winn, or Lena, or you… or any of our medics,” Alex added, flushing self-consciously at the praise, the rare use of her first name not escaping her notice.

“You’re being modest.”

“Yeah, well. If you could just let me know when Lena’s allowed back here, I’d appreciate it. Winn’s translation software is good but it’s not enough. If Lex taught himself Kryptonian, there’s a good chance that Lena might still have all his old resources. Also, we’re going to have to perform Kara’s medical at some stage before she can leave this building and I’d appreciate Lena’s input.”

“I’m arranging for her to come in soon for a meeting. I’ll pass the message on, see if she’s interested.” Hank assured her.

“Alright. Thank you.”

Alex headed back to her flat, guilt sitting on her conscience. There was nothing more that she could do for the time being, but the thought of leaving Kara behind in her strange new home, lying in a temporary bed in a borrowed room made her uneasy. The tears that she had seen Kara weep for a home long lost had seeped under her skin and left her chilled.

Over the next fortnight, Kara spent the majority of her time asleep and resting. The trauma of her ordeal had left her entirely spent, and the process of recovery was by no means a quick or simple one.

A small team of DEO scientists and medical specialists were assigned the role of nursing her back to full health. Her body had been pushed to the very extremes of its endurance, and even with the miraculous healing powers that she possessed, the physical strain that she had survived had taken its toll. The Kryptonian was placed under round-the-clock observation by her doctors, and her recuperation was monitored closely.

During her first week as an in-patient at the DEO, Kara tended only to wake for very short stretches of time, often in the evening or late at night when the headquarters were emptier and more peaceful. The unpleasant after-effects of kryptonite poisoning made her perpetually drowsy, and for a while, even the slightest exertion left her worn out and sore. Absolute bedrest was strictly prescribed by the DEO medical team. Her meals were delivered to her from the canteen (it was fast discovered that the Kryptonian possessed a voracious appetite), and she was only permitted to leave her room when a nurse was accompanying her to the washrooms.

Her newly developed superhuman abilities meant that, at the beginning, she required assistance from her nurses in most of her daily tasks. Her immense strength and unstable powers made coordination and manual handling extremely difficult, and the fatigue that she was contending with added yet another complexity. Just using cutlery or getting washed and dressed presented a serious challenge, with appliances designed for human usage bending and cracking under the unwitting force that her hands could exert.

She also frequently suffered from headaches, as her brain struggled to process the onslaught of intense visual and audio stimuli that her enhanced senses were relaying. The blinds in her room were always drawn and the door to her room always closed in an attempt to exclude the overwhelming outer world of sound and sight that was trying to invade. Everything on this new planet was shockingly bright and loud, and the initial adjustment left her reeling.

While she was glad of the help and care that was being supplied to her by the DEO, it was evident that Kara found the changes and lack of control over her own body highly distressing. She could be subdued and visibly anxious after battling basic tasks, wanting to be left alone when things broke or she lost control. Her vast strength alarmed her, and she made no attempt by herself to explore any of the other abilities that the yellow sun had bestowed upon her.

After the first week, Kara gradually became more and more settled. As the last of the toxins were steadily flushed from her system, her energy levels and fitness began to restore. She eagerly sought to re-establish some of her own independence as the lethargy subsided, wanting to do more things for herself. Her nurses set her a series of exercises to finetune her muscle control, and Kara diligently practiced her grips and holds, determinedly retraining herself to interact with the space around her. She was given a set of small weights and elastic resistance bands that helped to teach her how to automatically restrain her natural strength, and she worked with them every day that her health allowed it.

She did not speak out loud all that often, in either in Kryptonian or English. She could be relatively reserved at times, and even as her health improved and she became more comfortable with her surroundings and DEO staff members, she remained more content watching and listening to others than actively drawing attention to herself. Her short spoken language became interspersed with a form of interplanetary sign language which helped to bridge the language gap somewhat, particularly as she had taken a distinct dislike to the jarringly loud voice of Winn’s translation appliance.

Alex fell into a routine of dropping in to see her when her shift ended at five, finding that her schedule coincided with the times when Kara was most likely to be up and awake. While they could not converse all that much, Kara clearly enjoyed having some company that was not only doctors and nurses. Her comprehension of English seemed to improve with considerable speed in the first few days, just from hearing the conversations of those around her. She was a fast learner, highly observant, and good-humoured too.

It soon became the case that Alex found her daily visits to Kara standing out as one of the high points of her day. The time that she spent with the young woman was a pleasant break from the stress of her job. It was endearing to stop by each day and find Kara sitting up patiently in bed, sleepy but cheerful, waiting for the DEO agent to come in and say hello. Despite sharing neither a home planet nor a language in common, the two women became fast friends, and Alex found Kara’s amiable and inquisitive disposition instantly likeable.

Although the Kryptonian had remained an illusive figure for most DEO employees given that she was practically nocturnal, she still received a generous inundation of get well gifts from the medical staff and agents who had looked after her since her arrival. Alex took to bringing the presents in for her each evening, arranging the new bunches of flowers and cards on her windowsill while Kara sat cross-legged in the bed, watching her quizzically. 

She could see that Kara appreciated the kind gestures that people were making, although she sensed that flower-giving specifically was an unfamiliar practice on Krypton. On one particular evening, she found the Kryptonian trying to use a ballpoint pen to painstakingly dissect the stalk of a lily in order to inspect its composition. Kara was utterly perplexed when Alex attempted to explain that the floral arrangements were intended for decoration only, but eventually agreed to leave the bouquets in one piece.

Kara’s curiosity about Earth was not limited to the flowers in her room. By way of apology for the fright his language AI had caused, Winn gifted Kara a huge, glossy atlas, taking time one afternoon to show her all the pages and pointing out where she now resided. The following morning, the nurse who had been on night duty for the DEO medical wing informed Alex that Kara had sat up until the early hours, utterly riveted by the contents of the book. The atlas became covered in miniscule Kryptonian print, as Kara insistently annotated each section.

The night after Winn presented Kara with the new book, Alex was disturbed at midnight by a frantic call from the security desk, asking for her help to locate the alien woman who had seemingly vanished from her room. When she arrived at the office, it took Alex less than ten minutes to trace Kara from her room up to the roof.

She found the Kryptonian kneeling on the building parapet in nothing but her hospital gown, the thin fabric fluttering in the breeze. Her atlas was open by her side, and she was staring fixatedly out at the mass of stars above. She seemed unbothered by the cold breeze and the dizzying height of her perch, with her attention entirely diverted by the expanse of dark sky etched with silver constellations that stretched out in her field of view. Not even the vision of National City twinkling below could entice her to look away.

Alex approached her slowly, aiming to coax her back from the edge. While she knew the woman was capable of flight, neither of them knew for certain whether she had any control of that power yet, and the sight of Kara balanced so precariously on the brink made her own legs feel weak. To her great relief, she did not have to speak a word before Kara suddenly shifted her weight and leapt nimbly back onto the roof, moving safely away from the drop.

“Are you okay?”

Kara nodded mutely, signing for Alex to look up, then pointing east to a distant coordinate in the sky.

“What am I looking for?” Alex asked.

_Home_ , Kara signed, pointing again, before turning and walking by herself back down to her room. She was asleep by the time Alex had caught up with her.

It took some convincing, but Hank eventually relented to Alex’s request to allow Kara nightly supervised walks up to the roof and around the building.

Just over two weeks after Kara regained consciousness, Lena Luthor returned to the DEO, as per Hank Henshaw’s request.

The scheduling of the meeting had not been an easy arrangement to come to. Lena had repeatedly postponed on the various earlier times that Hank had put forward, citing L-Corp priorities as her excuse. In the end, the only slot that she would settle for was one at 8.30pm on a Saturday, decidedly out of usual business hours.

The choice of timing was deliberate; it reminded the DEO that they were being a nuisance to her, and that she could just as easily be uncooperative if she so chose to be. While it irritated Hank at a professional level, on a personal note, he could sympathise with the point that Lena was underlining. They had been readily given her good grace up to that stage and had taken it for granted. Now she was putting her own interests first.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Luthor.”

Lena had drawn up five minutes early, but Hank had anticipated her punctuality, ready and waiting in the central lobby as her sleek car drew up.

“With all due respect, Director Henshaw, you gave me little other option.”

“I’ve booked out conference room 4A. If you’d be so good as to follow me.”

He led the way to the top floor, and Lena fell smartly into step. As they reached the walkway, he nodded over to the room adjoining 4A.

“That’s where Kara is staying for the time being while she’s under the order of bedrest. I’m sure that, if you wanted to, you’d be welcome to pay her a visit after our meeting. She likes seeing people.”

“I take it you’re not going to try and have me carted off to prison then?” Lena replied drily.

“Let’s talk in here,” Hank answered, pushing the door open to usher her inside.

Lena set her briefcase down on the table and removed a sizeable folder from it, sliding it across the table to the DEO director. He took it and flipped the cover open, running his eyes over the contents.

“That’s my kryptonite formula,” she told him, gesturing at the collection of papers, “How to make it, all the properties that I identified, how to store it and so on.”

“How long have you been able to do this?”

“About three years,” she told him, “Just before I started to suspect that Lex was far more dangerous than anybody had previously anticipated. I started supplying the FBI with intelligence on him soon after, and the small amount of kryptonite that I had managed to manufacture, I locked up. Nobody other than me knew anything about it.”

“It was stored safely?”

“Obviously,” she retorted indignantly, “My synthetic kryptonite is pure, which makes it more stable than the raw material my brother used to experiment with. It was all kept in a secure, sealed environment.”

“Was?” he frowned.

“Almost everything I had, I used on Kara. I’ve destroyed the rest.”

“You have no more kryptonite?”

“None,” Lena spread her hands, palms up and open, “I barely had any in the first place, but there’s now absolutely nothing left for the DEO to confiscate. You have my word.”

Hank leant back into his chair, exhaling slowly. His fingers drummed rhythmically on the metal armrest as he ingested the information.

“Why’d you lie about having any in the first place? Why didn’t you tell us you could make it?”

“Still looking for a buttonhole to stick that Luthor rose in, huh?” Lena quipped, cocking an eyebrow.

“I’m just trying to understand your reasoning,” he assured her, “I’m not being hostile.”

Lena straightened in her seat, lips pursed. She was starting to feel stifled under Hank’s scrutiny. Explaining herself wearing was a wearing task, and Hank’s insistently bureaucratic line of questioning was doing little to make her feel charitable. Shrugging off her suit jacket, she deposited it unceremoniously over the back of her chair before hooking a finger behind the top button of her collar, releasing it to let herself breathe. There was a jug of water and two glasses on the table, and she poured herself one and took a sip, composing herself.

“I didn’t inform the government that I had discovered how to synthesise kryptonite for a number of reasons.”

“Those reasons being?” he pressed.

“Well, as you will see in my report, green kryptonite actually has very few useful properties. Admittedly it could be used as a fuel for cleaner energy generation, but frankly, there are far more efficient substances. Plus, it’s too expensive to manufacture to be cost effective either. My own personal interests lie in furthering medical science and it is essentially useless in the human medical field. Unless you share the same ambitions as my brother, you don’t need more kryptonite. No one does.”

“So what? It was too _boring_ a discovery to be deemed reportable?” interjected Hank, “What about your trust in the government?”

“That was a factor too,” Lena conceded, “Like I said, it’s only really useful as a weapon. If I ever thought that the government genuinely needed the formula, I would have reconsidered… I _did_ reconsider, as you know. I handed my invention over when it was required, as I saw was my civic duty. The government wasn’t losing out on anything by me not passing on what I knew, believe me.”

“What would you have done if your discovery had fallen into the wrong hands?” he asked curiously.

“If it had fallen into the wrong hands, I would have come to the DEO at once,” Lena retaliated heatedly, leaning forward, “But you’re a smart man, Director Henshaw. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that there aren’t wrong hands in the government? Project Cadmus, for instance? Do you really think the formula would have been so much safer in a government unit than in my L-Corp facility under my personal protection?”

Hank’s brow furrowed into a questioning stare.

“Your mother Lillian led Cadmus up until very recently. Isn’t she still on the board?”

Lena gave a short, derisive laugh, barely concealing an eye roll.

“That’s precisely my point.”

“Look,” Hank cut off the line of enquiry before they got side-tracked, “Miss Luthor, I do actually agree with you. In fact, I fully intend to make your formula classified to the highest degree. I’ve erased any mention of kryptonite from Kara’s medical records and I’m going to ensure that, when you leave here today, the only two people on Earth who will know that kryptonite can be synthesised is us.”

“And you’re not pressing charges?”

“Definitely not.”

“Well. I could have done without the interrogation,” she remarked, tossing him a wry smile.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, readily acknowledging the fault, “I just had to be sure that we were on the same page before I staked my career on it.”

“I’m glad I’ve convinced you.”

“You’ve more than convinced me. I’m very grateful to you,” he responded genuinely, “And I hope I’ve convinced you of the DEO’s dependability too. It could be very good for us both if our organisations were able to collaborate again in the future. Keep fighting the good fight for humans and aliens alike.”

“The potential is there, by all means,” Lena diplomatically concurred. 

“Speaking of which, Agent Danvers was keen to have your assistance in conducting Kara’s medical examination, and she also wondered whether you have any of your brother’s Kryptonian language resources? We’ve encountered something of a language barrier.”

“Well, you know what my schedule can be like, I can’t make any promises about my availability to be working here. But I have brought some of Lex’s Kryptonian material over with me, actually. I found them and I thought you’d find them useful.”

Hank’s radio suddenly crackled into life and he grimaced as his presence was requested down in the cells. He attempted to lower the volume, but the request hissed persistently through the static and Lena politely waved the interruption aside, reassuring him that he could go.

“Agent Danvers’s office is just down the corridor,” he informed her, heading for the door, “Would you mind leaving your Kryptonian resources in there? I’d take them myself, but I’ve got to deal with this, I’m sorry.”

He made a quick exit, and Lena sat back down, sifting through the mass of files in her briefcase, sorting out what Alex would need. She found a scrap piece of a paper in amongst it all and used the spare bit to write Alex a short note explaining what she had included. Her head was down, and she did not notice that there was somebody stood in the doorway until she caught a flash of movement in the corner of her eye.

When she glanced upwards, the blonde woman entering the room stopped, wavering hesitantly on the spot when she realised that Lena had become aware of her presence. She fiddled with the sleeve of her hospital gown as Lena stared at her in surprise, and her socked feet shuffled nervously on the tiled floor as she debated whether or not to continue inside. She looked ready to bolt until Lena spoke.

“Hello Kara,” she smiled gently, “It’s nice to see you.”

If she was to be honest, Lena had held no intention of meeting Kara once the kryptonite procedure had been completed. Her involvement in the entire affair had been complex enough as it was, without striking up a personal acquaintanceship with the Kryptonian woman. She had hoped that after this final trip to the DEO, she would be able to effectively wash her hands of the whole matter, leaving the conflicting interests and confusion behind her. Best intentions aside, a Luthor’s presence in this matter had already caused enough complications for everybody, and that would surely only be amplified once Kara attempted to begin a new life on Earth.

Yet, as Kara stood before her, all life and consciousness, she felt a hint of gladness that her initial wishes had been thwarted. Lena was curious about her, that much was irrefutable, and her interest was only piqued when Kara materialised like a mirage at the end of the room, no longer merely an object of conversation. Against her better judgment, Lena found the lure of intrigue hard to resist.

“It’s okay,” she gestured softly at Kara, “You can come in.”

“I know you.” the Kryptonian regarded her carefully with piercing blue eyes.

It was somewhere between a statement of fact and a question, and Lena gave an encouraging nod.

“Yes, you do.”

“How are you called?”

“My name is Lena.”

“Ah. _Lena_ ,” Kara pronounced, her voice finding purchase on the new name, “Yes. I am remembering. You have been here.”

If you had not known that Kara was from another world, you could have been forgiven for assuming that her accent was Germanic or Dutch, given the way her English wrapped around its vowel sounds and cut through its consonants. It was a husky, lilting type of accent that was eminently easy on the ear, and one that managed to hold a surprising tone of authority, even in a newly acquired second language.

As the Kryptonian’s confidence slowly began to bolster, she wandered further into the conference room, looking with interest around the space and down at the contents of Lena’s briefcase. The L-Corp CEO eyed her humorously and flipped the case shut, tilting her eyebrow with faux disapproval as Kara bit her tongue, seeing that she had been caught in the act of snooping.

“I was told that you were supposed to be getting bedrest.” Lena made the gentle jibe as she stood and pulled a chair out, indicating politely that Kara should sit.

It occurred to Lena that the statement might be out of Kara’s lingual range, but after a second, the other woman broke into an impish smile that lit her features up like a candle in a jar.

“Yes,” she cocked her head playfully to one side, “But I go on walks. With Alex.”

“Alex isn’t here, though.” Lena pointed out light-heartedly, finding the Kryptonian’s sense of humour unusually infectious.

“Yes,” Kara said again, the conspiratorial smile coming back with a vengeance as she slipped cross-legged into the chair Lena had provided.

They were sat opposite each other, and Lena allowed the Kryptonian to get comfortable. She had a fresh, youthful countenance, but one which seemed marked by a noticeable length of experience that outstripped her years. The brilliant blue eyes were wide and alert, and Lena could almost feel the heavy gaze surveying her. It was apparent that Kara was just as curious about Lena as Lena was about her. 

The only humans that Kara had encountered at close quarters prior to Lena’s arrival were DEO staff members, all clad in the same dreary uniform and medical tunics. She had yet to see people who belonged to the exterior community; humans at leisure rather than at work, and Lena offered her the first real tantalising glimpse of the world beyond. She was better than a snipped bouquet and a stationary atlas; not a promise of a life beyond but proof.

There was some distinctly new about this sharply jawed, sharply dressed woman and the way she lounged back in her seat, not as if she was employed in the building but as if she owned the place. There was nothing uniform or military about her; she did not seem bound by the convention of others but rather entirely under her own jurisdiction. She looked free in a way that almost made Kara jealous, and the energy that she exuded transfixed Kara momentarily.

“It’s good to see you up and about.” Lena disrupted Kara’s silent appraisal, “How are you?”

“Eh.” Kara tilted her hand back and forth as an indication of a mixed picture, “Is okay. Better now.”

“Do you like it here?”

“Hm. Yes,” Kara nodded, “Good people. Nice people.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“But er… how do you say…? Is boring,” she added, gesturing to the bland walls of the room with a disparagingly wry smile.

“Well, I’m not surprised,” Lena laughed lightly, “I’m not very good at sitting still and doing nothing either.”

“And you? DEO?” Kara ventured.

“No. I am a scientist, but I don’t work here.”

“Ah. Me also.” Kara patted her own chest, “ _Scientist_.”

“On Krypton?” asked Lena.

“Yes. You know of Krypton?”

“Sort of.”

Lena’s reply was oddly abrupt, and she suddenly looked eager to keep her cards close to her chest. After weeks cooped up indoors with little outlet and limited information, Kara sensed opportunity in the air. The thirst for answers that had been growing exponentially since she had regained consciousness was being left frustratingly unquenched, and Lena’s fortuitous arrival presented her with a chance to reach out to something beyond what the DEO had thus far allowed.

Her eyes roamed back to Lena’s briefcase that has caught her interest before. As her pupils suddenly dilated, Lena realised too late that the leather folds of the bag were no match for Kara’s x-ray vision capabilities. The papers inside were still very much on display to her.

“ _Krypton!_ ”

Kara’s face changed with shock, and her hand darted forward to reach for the briefcase but she overshot entirely, instead shattering the jug of water on the table. Jagged shards of glass were thrown across the tabletop as the jug smashed, diamond fragments lying half submerged in the spreading pool. Kara withdrew her hand in dismay at the devastation she had caused, recoiling in horror. She drew a rapid intake of breath, and Lena saw the signs of panic setting in as her cheeks flushed and her fists clenched.

“ _Forgive me! Rao! My body is not my own, I don’t know how to use it._ ” she groaned, wringing her hands in anguish.

Lena instinctively reached out and clasped her wrists, pulling her hand over to inspect it for injury. Kara had not so much as been scratched by the glass, and Lena marvelled at how her apparently soft, pliable skin had the ability to withstand such abuse. She squeezed her hand reassuringly and leant in closer to the distressed Kryptonian, ignoring the liquid trickling over the edge of the table into a puddle on the floor.

“ _Kara, it’s okay. Listen to me, forget the water. You’re not hurt, that is most important.”_

Kara stopped, the rising despair that had been threatening to boil over cooling as quickly as it had brewed. The sound of Lena’s voice seemed to sober her up and her reason returned as the fog of panic cleared. She glanced down at where Lena was still holding her arm, deliberating whether or not to pull away until Lena gently let go, and Kara then clasped her hand to her chest.

“ _I couldn’t tell you when I last heard my mother tongue spoken to me,_ ” she murmured, voice barely above a reverential whisper.

“ _Then I’m sorry I cannot speak it better for you._ ” Lena answered softly.

Kara’s eyes had taken on a misty appearance, and Lena’s proximity to her was such that she could see the emotion stir behind her gaze before it was rapidly blinked away. She was moved, and Lena felt the fleeting sense that she was undeserving of witnessing this moment of intimate revelation. It was clear that the occasion was one of momentous significance for Kara, and Lena could hardly fathom how the privilege of sharing it with her had become hers.

“ _You speak it very well,_ ” Kara shook her head, regaining her composure, “ _But how can that be? When it is the dead language of a dead people?_ ”

On the surface, Kara’s question seemed to stem more from intrigue than anything else, but the slightly detached way that she acknowledged the extinction of her race spoke volumes about a pain that could not yet be articulated.

Lena hesitated momentarily, carefully assessing her explanation. Her linguistic capabilities would prevent her from elaborating in the first instance, but she also needed to weigh up what could appropriately be divulged. She had not planned on revealing this further strange legacy of Lex’s that was her ability to speak Kryptonian, and while she could see that keeping it hidden would have been cruel, her association with Kara was now accelerating into new depths of complexity. The last thing she wished to do was add to the pain that Kara was already gripped by.

“ _I am from a family of… academics,_ ” she replied at last, “ _They studied other worlds. I learned some of your language from my brother. He was a scientist also. These papers are his, not mine,_ ” she pointed to the briefcase.

“ _You are the first person on Earth that I have met who can understand a word that I speak_ ,” Kara studied her curiously, “ _Why have I not seen you sooner? Or your brother?_ ”

“ _Like I said, I don’t work for the government. It’s not easy for me to be here._ ” Lena answered with a small, apologetic shrug, “ _But I am giving these studies of Kryptonian to Alex, so that she and others will be able to speak to you and understand you._ ”

“ _You were here when I first woke up._ ” Kara frowned, “ _And you’re here now._ ”

“ _Only because it was an emergency. Because of who my family are, it was hoped I could help you. I’m only here now by chance. I would never normally be._ ”

“ _You must be very able_ ,” Kara fixed Lena with an inscrutable stare, “ _On Krypton, the finest scientists all work for the government in the Science Guild. If you are better than the government, you must be very good indeed._ ”

“ _Things just work differently here,_ ” Lena deflected casually.

“ _So, it was you who saved my life?_ ”

“ _It wasn’t just me._ ”

“ _Perhaps,_ ” Kara smiled, “ _But I was not awake until you came here to me._ ”

Her gaze was earnest, and Lena averted her gaze at the frank praise, finding herself unused to the type of warm honesty that shone from Kara. That was the kind of emotion that she thought was better left guarded, and she found it oddly unsettling to be confronted by the beaming look on Kara’s face.

“ _The DEO will look after you,_ ” she answered, steering the conversation back to a path that felt more familiar, “ _The best place for you to be is here._ ”

“ _Yes,_ _I think that is true,_ ” Kara acquiesced, “ _But because I do not speak your language and because I am young and have been ill, it is imagined that I am somehow fragile or innocent... That I cannot be told too much, that I need to be sheltered. I know what became of Krypton! I saw her burn, and I have survived alone ever since. I don’t want to be kept in the dark, Lena. Are there other Kryptonians who are still alive? What will happen to me when I leave here? I am told nothing._ ”

“ _You shouldn’t be left in the dark. I’ll talk to Alex, try to make her understand so that she can help you,_ ” Lena promised her sincerely, “ _But I’m afraid I can’t be the one to give you the answers you want. It’s not for me to do that._ ”

“ _If you tell me that is the case, then I believe you. I won’t keep troubling you for answers you cannot give. But will you give me your word that you will at least come back here to see me?_ ”

“ _Of course,_ ” Lena nodded, “ _I’ll come back, you have my word._ ”

“Thank you, Lena.”

Lena glanced at her watch and stood up, pulling her suit jacket on. Kara gingerly offered her the briefcase, but Lena waved it away.

“Keep it. Give it to Alex.”

Kara nodded, hugging it to her chest. They stepped into the corridor and Kara showed Lena the neighbouring door, tapping the plastic 4B sign to prove that it was her room. Standing in the doorway, she suddenly looked tired and small, shoulders sagging visibly under the stiff fabric of her hospital gown.

Behind her, Lena could see the makeshift bedroom, clinical and plain even with the colourful additions of cards and flowers, and she felt a strong reluctance to leave swell in her chest. A vivid childhood recollection of standing in the austere guest wing of the Luthor family home swept through the forefront of her mind, and her sympathy for Kara only multiplied. She too knew abandonment.

“I’ll see you soon,” she promised.

She could feel Kara watching her all the way to the exit, and as she walked out into the night and onto the pavement beneath to ring for her driver, she did not miss the face pressed to the window several storeys above, staring right down.


End file.
